


Dark Heart Dawning

by eshcaine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angel True Forms, Angel Vessels, Angelic Grace, Angels, Blood and Gore, Camp Chitaqua, Castiel and Drug Use, Croatoans, Demons, Drug Use, Endverse, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, The Apocalypse, mentions of Gabriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:06:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 81,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eshcaine/pseuds/eshcaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We will always end up here."</p><p>Would 2014 be any other way?</p><p>Sam said yes, couldn’t wrest control away from The Lightbringer, and we all know how Detroit fell apart. But later as Dean drove up into Stull Cemetery, Lucifer had one more slight of hand to play. Instead of pulling the Impala up alongside the archangel stand off, Dean found himself suddenly sidelined, spirited off by Lucifer's powers. He and the Impala were parked a thousand miles away from Lawrence Kansas. With him in the car sat Bobby and Castiel, and Castiel’s fading grace was gone entirely. </p><p>Lucifer ripped Michael apart, burnt a hole the size of the state of Kansas into the surface of the earth, making Hiroshima look like a rough hiccup. </p><p> </p><p>In the end, Lucifer won.</p><p>But that was just the beginning.......</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta for this fic: The Divine Miss V, theimportanceofbeingvictoria!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria

 

**Prelude:**

Sam said yes, couldn’t wrest control away from The Lightbringer, and we all know how Detroit fell apart. But later as Dean drove up into Stull Cemetery, Lucifer had one more slight of hand to play. Instead of pulling the Impala up alongside the archangel stand off, Dean found himself suddenly sidelined, spirited off by Lucifer's powers. He and the Impala were parked a thousand miles away from Lawrence Kansas. With him in the car sat Bobby and Castiel, and Castiel’s fading grace was gone entirely.

Lucifer ripped Michael apart, burnt a hole the size of the state of Kansas into the surface of the earth, making Hiroshima look like a rough hiccup.

 

In the end, Lucifer won.

 

 

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

**Camp Chitaqua. Five years later:**

 

Castiel shifted half on his stomach, and stretched his right leg out while bringing his left knee up level with his hip. The drag of his bare skin against the fabric of the sheets made an involuntary shiver creep across his skin, but he ignored it and burrowed deeper against his pillow. His skin was over-sensitive and raw-feeling after dropping his last tab of acid the previous day, and his eyes felt papery under their closed lids. He took in a deep breath and smelled the left over scent of sex clinging to his bed. With it also came the sour scent of the sweat that had clung to his skin during his acid trip. He was alone in bed now, having lost the two bodies that had been there eagerly the previous night. Their desire had waned when his acid soaked brain had been unable to back up any possibility of erection on his part. And the synesthesia brought on by the drug made it hard for him to focus in any measure on helping them achieve their pleasure.

“But whatever….” He thought callously. “They’ll be back.”

He canted his hip and felt the semi stiffening flesh of his cock rub against the surface of the bed. He considered crawling out of bed and stumbling out to see if anyone else was awake and up for trading blowjobs. But the acid trip had left him feeling wrung out, tired. His body was lax and lazy now. He nosed his head in the opposite direction on the pillow and started to drift back into a cottony sleep.

“Get up Cas!” There was a bark of a voice, Dean’s voice, and a sharp shove against the edge of Castiel’s bed that jostled him under his blanket. “Get some clothes on….”

“Fuck off Dean, I’m sleeping.” Castiel didn’t move and let his body sink against his mattress instead.

“Fuck you Cas. Something has happened an’ we need to get out an’ do some recon.” That hard shove against the bed jarred Castiel again and Dean snarled, “We need everyone up and out, even you. Now get your ass dressed and get movin’!”

Castiel felt something heavy thump on the bed next to him, and then heard Dean’s purposeful heavy boot stomps cross the floor. In a moment they returned and then a bundle of clothing was dumped unceremoniously on top of Cas’ head. Whatever morning wood had been growing between his legs was chased off. Wilted under Dean’s ‘fearless leader’ voice.

“I’m not leavin’ here until you get your sorry hide out of bed.” Dean said defiantly.

“Fine.” Castiel twisted, shoving the clothing off his head and the blanket away from his torso in two succinct moves. He sat up, swung his legs to the edge of the bed and glowered at Dean. Beside him, a compact carbine rifle lay sticking half out of the tumbled blanket. It had been the heavy thing Dean had dumped on the bed first. Cas looked at it, looked at Dean, raised one eyebrow and stood up. Uncaring if Dean saw him naked or not.

Dean replied with an uncomfortable frown and turned away. “Early morning scouts came back sayin’ they didn’t see one single Croat all night. I need all eyes on deck. We need to spread out, see what’s up. What’s going on.”

Castiel’s glower simmered down into a side eyed skeptical look and he reached for the trousers Dean had thrown at him. “So? Maybe they’ve just moved on to find a new area to trash.” He tugged the trousers on and fastened them closed.

“Or maybe Lucifer has decided it’s time to step his game, bring in some bigger guns, try some new terrifying shiny toy” Dean gruffed out. “We need to see what’s going on Cas.” There was a pause, “Need your eyes on this. You’ve got info in that brain of yours no other human being walking has and when you aren’t flipped out of your skull on chemicals, you have the best eyesight in the camp. Cas I need…” Dean drew in a ragged breath, “I need you.”

Dean turned then and looked back at Castiel, but on seeing the hickeys and bruising on the former angel’s chest, stomach and throat from the half attempted sexual encounter the previous night, his look soured. Dean’s lip curled in disgust and he turned away. “Just…. Get dressed.” He spat the words out and strode to the exit.

After Dean had left, Castiel let his hands fall limp at his sides. The look of revulsion in Dean’s eyes lingered with him, and he felt a heavy weight sink into the center of his chest. His gaze drooped down and wandered over his skin, noting the bruises, cataloguing the bites and hickeys. The very air felt as if it were nipping at his flesh now, pin pricking his skin in unpleasant ways. He lifted a weary hand and ran the pads of his fingers over his stomach slowly. Each touch felt like sandpaper.

A snapshot of the curl of Dean’s lip flashed across his mind’s eye and Castiel felt like he was going to vomit.

The abrupt honk of one of the vehicle horns startled Castiel and his head snapped up, jerking him out of the fugue he was sliding into. He bent over carefully and snagged the shirt off the bed with two curled fingers, shook it out half heartedly and then pulled it on over his head. He continued to dress, finding socks, boots and his jacket. Once those were on, he claimed the rifle and walked slowly out of his cabin.

 

 

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

 

 

**Baton Rouge, LA. That same Day:**

 

Sam’s head felt thick and cottony, and his vision was distorted and hazy. If he lifted his head up too much or tried to turn it, a wave of rolling dizziness would swarm through. He let his chin rest on his chest and kept his eyes shut, let his breathing even out. He focused on his tactile sensations, trying to take in his current physical state. He was seated in a chair with his arms bound straight out away from his shoulders to either side on wooden planks. He could feel his legs were strapped from the knee down to the chair legs. He was nude, but wherever he was the temperature in the room was kept at an even warm state. And the air was still. It was also silent save for one continuous noise: the sound of water lapping alongside something metal at a natural cadence.

Sam allowed himself to drift in and out of consciousness, not fighting the sleep when it came over him. He remembered Detroit, how it felt when Lucifer first entered him. How he had fought so hard to take control and then how he had been washed away on this blistering tide of energy and light inside his own mind. After that there was broken memories, shifting images, half formed nightmare images that eddied at his consciousness. Nothing concrete or solid in his memory until this seat he was bound to,the cloudiness in his head and the soothing sound of gentle waves.

Slowly Sam became aware that there was a needle shunted into his arm and a catheter connected to his urethra. He reasoned that this was why he hadn’t felt the urge to pee, or had felt hunger. He had no indication how long he had been held there, nor how he had gotten there.

He did know one thing; Lucifer had vacated his body and was no longer inside him.

But where had Lucifer gone? And where was Dean? Was he dead? He tried working these thoughts over, but sleep kept creeping up on him.

He did dream now and then as he slipped in and out of wakefulness. And he thought he was dreaming when he heard a distance muffled booming sound, feet running and voices shouting. He tried again to raise his head and discovered it was a little easier. He blinked his eyes open once and saw a door open across the hazy room.

Muted sunlight spilled into the room and Sam had to clench his eyes shut a moment, then he squinted them open.

A blurry figure rushed to his side and he felt cold hands on his face, his forehead, his shoulders. They tilted his head and he could make out the vague face of a woman. She was speaking to him in hushed words, “Hey. Hey! Gonna get you out of here but you’ve got to get your head clear okay dude?” Then she was removing the needle from his arm and after a moment, the catheter.

The adrenaline began to surge through him as the woman began to pull his arms free of their bonds. He scrunched his eyes open and closed again, drawing in deep breaths to fill his lungs. The metal of the floor was firm under his feet. This was not a dream.

Soon he was freed and she was helping him to stand, “We don’t have to go far, just out this room, down along a short walkway and then under a rail. From there it’s a short drop to my boat and we’ll be on our way.” She shouldered herself under his arm, bracing his side against her own. “I can’t carry you…. Please, you’ve got to walk!”

The desperation in her voice and her trembling hands told Sam everything he needed to know about his escape. She was probably alone and there were others who would stop her, stop him, keep them from leaving. Sam stumbled, his knees weak, but he ground his teeth together and drew himself onto his feet. She was short, nearly over a foot shorter than he was, but her lower center of gravity helped steady Sam and soon they were marching with halted steps across the room.

She flung the door wider and pulled them out into hazy daylight and cold frigid air. The sudden freezing temperature and the acrid smell of smoke on the chilling breeze slammed Sam’s brain awake and he could see they were walking on theoutside walkway of a riverboat, green brown water lapping alongside the riverboat’s hull. Around them the air was becoming thicker with the smoke of a fire, but Sam heard no flames nor saw the flicker of heat.

The woman moved a bit faster now, and Sam discovered he could move a little easier. His body kicking into survival mode, whatever drug had been pumped in his body now being overridden by the will to live. They skirted the walkway and Sam saw a small tugboat lashed alongside the larger riverboat. The woman aimed for the tug and when they were beside its prow she began to lower Sam down to sit at the edge.

“Slide under the rail and drop down. There’s just tarps and rope there, but there is solid deck beneath so watch how ya’ land.” She gestured under the side rail of the riverboat and Sam peered over. About five feet down the tug’s front deck floated and waited.

“HEY!!” A shout came from behind and to Sam’s right, just over his shoulder away from the rail and the tug. He turned to see a man marching towards them. The man’s eyes were solid black and as shiny as a beetle’s carapace.

“Go go go!” The woman nudged Sam, pushing his head to bow under the rail. Sam weakly attempted to protest, to stay and challenge the approaching demon. But seeing his stubbornness the woman hitched one hand under each of his arms and pushed under and down. Sam lost his balance, slipped and slid over the edge, falling down awkwardly to land half on his hip and on one elbow into the mass of tarps on the tugboat. His elbow spiked with jarring pain as it hit. He shook his hair out of his eyes and looked up to see the woman hold her ground. Sam tried to cry out, say something but found his voice stuck and clogged from lack of use. He shifted and sat up, wincing at the pain in his elbow and hip.

Sam watched in horror as the demon strode up to the woman, his hand rising to throttle her at the neck. Just as the demon got within reaching distance, the woman pulled two glass flasks from her jacket pockets. To Sam they looked like the sort of glass you’d find in a chemists lab. The woman smashed one against the demon’s ankle and as he paused to look down, she hurled the other at his face. Both shattered and the liquid began to hiss, eating through the flesh of the demon’s face and into the cuts made by the broken glass. He began to stumble as his pant legs also began to smolder and smoke.

The demon frowned in confusion instead of screaming and thrashing, bringing one hesitant hand up to touch the melting skin at his face. The flesh continued to sizzle and Sam could smell a chemical reaction in the air from it: the flasks had been filled with potent acid.

The woman wasted no time, using the demon’s confusion in her favor. She gripped the demon at the elbows and began to fall backwards. She landed on her ass and as she did she brought her feet up, planting them on the demon’s stomach to keep him from falling on top of her directly. She continued to roll backwards, using the momentum of her fall to pull the demon with her, and when the demon’s shoulders started to tip over her head, she launched him the rest of the way over by forcing her leg’s straight. He landed with a ‘whump!’ on his back, stunned for half a moment. The woman rolled to her side, then scrambled to her feet. She dug her hands under his shoulders and then deftly rolled his body right over the edge of the walkway under the rail.

The demon came down, smacked the prow of the tugboat, half flop-bounced off of the metal and then hit the water with a splash.

Then the woman rushed to the edge where Sam had gone under the railing and slipped under it. She dropped down to land on her feet, and then toppled back onto her ass. She let off a small half gasp and a chuckle, rolled to her side and clambered to her feet. She stepped to where the tugboat and the riverboat sat side by side and planted both hands against the riverboat’s hull. She gave it a shove, and the tugboat lurched slightly. It floated away about a foot and then she was off running past Sam to vanish alongside wheelhouse of the tug.

Sam scanned the riverboat for any signs more demons and was startled when the tugboat engine came to life. The deck under his feet surged forward and he had to stumble back to lean against a tarp-covered crate to keep himself from falling.

Soon the riverboat was fading away to their left and back, and the tug was increasing its speed and skimming out into the center of the wide river. Behind the riverboat, one of the buildings near the waterfront was engulfed in thick smoke. Sam could see flames that licked bright along its sides.

That was when Sam realized he was shivering, still naked, the cold air beginning to really whip past as he stood at the front and the boat gained speed. He shakily picked his way around the crate to the front wall of the lower half of the wheelhouse. He was about to turn the corner when the woman met him there, a large blanket open in her arms.

Gently she wrapped it around Sam, and guided him into the crew quarters below the wheelhouse. It was small inside, with a little table, a kitchen area and two shelf-like bunks. She guided Sam to the lower bunk and helped him lay down, still keeping the blanket wrapped around him.

“Sorry about the cramped quarters. If I had known I’d be finding an NBA center, I’d have stolen one of those luxury yachts.” She chuckled warmly as she saw his feet had to tuck under for him to fit on the bunk. She turned away and opened a storage trunk, pulling another blanket out. She busied herself tucking that around him as she continued to talk, “The toilet is behind the door to the left there, tiny shower in there too if you feel up to using it later. It’ll stay fairly warm in here, and you should probably rest. I’mma be up in the wheelhouse… need to steer this crazy thing so we don’t wind up plowing into the side of the Mississippi bank…”

She tilted her head up at Sam and that was when he got his first real look at her. There was nothing exceptional about her appearance. She was short, on the heavier side and carried most of her weight in her hips. She had medium brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, and stray wisps of dark hair framed her face and the back of her neck. Her skin was dotted with sweat from their escape and she wore faded worn black cargo pants, beat up work boots and a thick mottled gray pull over sweater. She had a simple smile but her eyes were kind, dark and warm.

“Th…thank you….” Sam croaked out. He reached out and touched the back of her hand.

“No need. Had nothing better to do.” She shrugged her shoulders as if it was a poorly executed joke, then turned to leave.

“Wait… what…. What’s your name?” Sam almost reached out to try to take hold of her sweater’s hem.

“Oh yea sorry. It’s Tracy. Tracy Copeland.” She gave a little nod and that simple easy smile again. “Get some rest NBA. I’ll be back down after I get this tug down the river some.” She turned and left by the door they had entered.

Sam nodded, then shifted and squirmed to get into a more comfortable position in the bunk. He let his eyes roam around the small room, taking in the old weathered interior and furnishings. Nothing held his attention until his eyes landed on the faded plaid curtains on the windows. It was a blue, brown and yellow plaid, and it reminded him of some of the cheap window coverings that had been in the motel rooms he and Dean had stayed in countless times.

Sam curled his hands around the edges of the blankets and closed his eyes. He knew he was headed somewhere along the Mississippi river. He was relatively unharmed and free of Lucifer. And surely Dean was somewhere out there, looking for him.

Sam breathed out a slow exhale and drifted off to sleep.

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: Castiel & brief sexual encounter with other character/not Dean
> 
>  
> 
> The song Tracy is listening to is "Young Hearts Run Free" by Candi Station:  
> http://yowsahyowsahyowsah.tumblr.com/post/67191863158/iloveretro-candi-staton-young-hearts-run-free  
> (there will be a link within the fic, this is here in case that link breaks)

 

**Chapter 2**

**Somewhere along the Mississippi River, South of Baton Rouge, LA. Fourteen hours later:**

 

Sam awoke to darkness. But instead of the oppressive darkness of the room he had been held in, it was that thin pre-dawn glooming that hovered just before the promise of sunrise. Sam gave his eyes a moment to adjust, and the tiny crew room of the tugboat came into clear focus. The tugboat was still now; its engines were silent.

In fact, everything was silent. Sam couldn’t hear the lap of water alongside the boat nor could he hear any other sound beyond his own quiet breathing. For a quick moment he panicked, thinking this was all a dream; his rescue, the tugboat, Tracy. Or maybe it was a hallucination, crafted by Lucifer to toy with his mind. Maybe he wasn’t free of the archangel; maybe Lucifer was still inside him.

Sam instinctively jerked with fear and his left leg slammed hard against one of the bunk’s metal supports while at the same time his head came up and knocked into the low riding underside of the bunk above him. When he went to bring his hand up to his head, he found it caught in the pile of blankets that he was entangled in. As his leg pinged with pain and his head throbbed, Sam worked his way free of the blankets.

The early morning air beyond the blanket’s barrier felt frigid, and instantly bit against Sam’s bare skin, waking him fully. “No…”he tested his voice carefully, “Not a dream….this is real….” His voice was dry and thin, croaking from lack of use.

But Sam smiled anyway. It didn’t matter that his voice was cracked, or that he was standing naked and freezing. He was free, absolutely free. He was his own person again.

He began to untangle one of the blankets from the bunk, and wrap it around himself in a makeshift sort of toga. He was about to open the door to the bathroom when a loud thump echoed over his head in the tug’s upper wheelhouse. There was another thud, and then the sound of shifting feet on the metal floor. The sounds came again, at odd intervals and it suddenly hit Sam that someone was upstairs, possibly struggling with someone else.

He jerked open the door to the outside of the tug, and as quickly as his blanket wrapped form would allow, skirted the outside of the wheelhouse around to it’s back. He glanced around to find that the tugboat was now wedged among taller cargo barges carrying large stacked metal containers.

At the back of the wheelhouse he found a metal ladder leading up to the main bridge. He glanced up to the windows there to see what appeared to be a flashlight flickering and swinging around very fast. Every hunter instinct in Sam screamed, “It’s a fight!” and Sam pulled himself up the ladder as fast as possible. He launched his bare feet onto the cold metal surface of the upper wheelhouse main deck and yanked open the door to the bridge.

Tracy was there, but instead of finding her grappling with a demon or a Croat, she was dancing. Her booted feet were shuffling and bouncing, while her arms came up and down, moving to some beat Sam couldn’t hear. She twisted her body and came around to face Sam, but her eyes were closed. A playful smile, very different from the simple one she had given him before, was plastered to her lips. Her cheeks were rosy, she had small foam covered headphones lodged over her ears and a small Walkman held in one hand. Her hair was still pulled back, but instead of the ponytail, it was twisted up the back of her head into a clasp. The ends spilled out of the top in a messy array of half curls and weak waves. In her other hand was her flashlight, it’s beam swinging erratically with the movement of her dancing.

Sam stopped and titled his head in confusion. There was no struggle, just her dancing by herself on the bridge of the tugboat. He pulled the blanket closer around himself and was about to turn around and leave when Tracy’s eyes popped open and she saw him standing there.

“Oh! Ohmygosh….”The words spilled out breathy and nervous as she pulled the headphones down from her ears and they caught at the back of her head, “Oh I’m so sorry… did I wake you up?” Faint music spilled out of the headphones now, a woman’s voice singing [‘….it's high time now just one crack at life….who wants to live in trouble and strife….my mind must be free….to learn all I can about me…’](http://yowsahyowsahyowsah.tumblr.com/post/67191863158/iloveretro-candi-staton-young-hearts-run-free) until Tracy clicked a button to silence it.

A semi-awkward smile broke out across Sam’s mouth, “I heard what sounded like a struggle and came to make sure you were okay.”

Tracy looked down at her boots and the metal floor. “Oh. OH! Right. Sorry…” She peeled the headphones off completely and set them aside with the Walkman, then she gestured to the controls on the bridge, “Just taking a break before getting back to business.” The red in her cheeks deepened, and the playful smile was gone. “I only took us about ten miles down the river,” She turned and pointed out alongside the tug. The boat was now parked in between two large cargo barges and hidden from the rest of the river. “We’ve been here most of the night, but they’ll find the tug eventually. I was shutting everything down and packing everything up so we can leave.”

“Leave?” Sam shifted, his feet felt like ice now on the metal floor.

Tracy looked Sam up and down once and shook her head. “Time to talk later as we walk outta here. You need clothing and decent footwear.” She headed for the door Sam had entered from, and reached out to clasp and pull gently with her fingers at his blanket covered elbow suggesting he should follow her. “While blanket togas are quite fashionable in these parts and you look very fetching in it, it’s not practical….” The simple easy smile was back as she exited the bridge, “There are a bunch of crewman clothes below deck in trunks. Boots, coats, buncha stuff. C’mon I’ll show you.”

The next hour was spent with Sam rummaging through old trunks below deck to find clothing that might come close to fitting his larger frame. He lucked out and found a set of jeans that were long enough but were slightly big at the waist. He fashioned a belt out of some nylon rope and kept going. One thermal undershirt and a hooded sweatshirt later and he was clothed. The undershirt was white and smelled musty, and the sweatshirt was a faded blue with engine grease mottling the cuffs. He found a dusty pea coat that was surprisingly too big across the shoulders and his torso, but he took it anyway. The boots were the problem. He found a pair that he could squeeze into, but his right toes were pinched. He grimaced, long term walking would be painful but it was better than walking around barefoot.

After he was dressed they ate in the room Sam had slept in, consuming all the perishable food at Tracy’s instance. Sam sat on a small upturned crate as he finished off two small containers of yogurt while Tracy perched on the edge of the bunk Sam had slept in and nibbled on the last cheese slice.

“We’re a few miles south of where I found you. My plan is to ditch the tug…”She looked genuinely sad about that, “Hike back into Baton Rouge and hold up for a day or two there before hoofing it north and east. I’m aiming to free the tug and send it down the river on it’s own, aim it for the south western bank. Anyone looking for you will think we are headed west now.”

Sam nodded, “That’s… smart. Yea.” Then he paused and as casually as he could he said, “So how did you find me?”

“I was heading south from Memphis on my way down to New Orleans. I had stopped to go ashore and find food.” She raised the remainder of the cheese in her fingers, “I had parked the tug on the north west edge of the port about three weeks ago. ‘Bout four days after I got here this sorta military group marches in, about fifteen guys all geared up pretty hardcore. I kept out of sight, kept an eye on them. But ….” She paused here to take a drink of water from her mug, “They don’t do like I’ve seen other survival groups do. They don’t scavenge. They don’t do a search for supplies. Instead they head straight for the big riverboat you were on.” Tracy finished off the cheese before she continued.

“The next night there is this crazy bright blue white light that comes bursting from the riverboat windows. And this really high-pitched impossibly loud sound. I had to cover my ears and duck my head down. Thankfully, it didn’t last long.” Tracy shrugged. “The military guys just stayed on the riverboat, patrolling and guarding it. I couldn’t leave until they left because…. I didn’t know who they were, what they were about. For all I knew they would have punched a hole into the tug with a bazooka. So…..I needed to see what the heck was goin’ on over there.”

Tracy stood up and moved past Sam to one of the storage compartments. She pulled out night vision binoculars and handed them to him, “I found a small rowboat and I took it over closer, anchored near the half sunken Navy ship on the same dock for cover. Spent one night just watching and then the next day I snuck on board the riverboat and looked around.”

“How were you not caught?” Sam frowned.

“Dude, I am short and there are a zillion places to hide on those old riverboats. It wasn’t hard to sneak about.” She moved back to take her seat on the bunk’s edge.

“While I was sneaking around… that’s when I found you in that room, all um, naked…..” She paused as a slight blush crept over her cheeks. But then sadness came into her eyes and it overrode everything. “They had you jacked up on drugs and tied to a chair. I figured whatever they wanted to do to you couldn’t be good so I made up my mind to get you out of there.”

She paused and wiggled one finger towards the window. “What was hard was setting everything up to spring you out. I needed to get as many of those chuckleheads off that riverboat as possible. And that… wow…” Here Tracy rolled her eyes and groaned in exasperation. “That was not easy let me tell you.”

She went on then to explain how she had searched the city, found the Chemistry department of a community college and gathered up various chemicals and supplies. How she had set things up in a building adjacent to the pier the riverboat was anchored at. How she had loaded up the chemicals into a room in the building. How she had set up a remote starter for the fuse.

“I was beginning to think the way I had left the set up, that maybe it wasn’t going to work. I was about to give up and leave, try something else when the thing blew up. Finally!” She rolled her eyes again and nearly laughed, “I kept thinking, I hope this guy is worth it.”

Sam looked down at his hands then and nodded, unsure how to process the extent this woman had gone to free him, and why she would bother. He was trying to find the words to ask, without sounding ungrateful when Tracy gently pulled the empty yogurt container out of his hands.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She spoke gently. “Of course you are worth it. You’re a human being.”

Sam’s head snapped up then, his face pulled with sorrow and disbelief, “How can you say that? You don’t know who I am…. You don’t even know my name yet. You don’t know what I’ve done…”

“What is your name?” She asked flatly, derailing him.

“Wh…what?” Sam blinked at the sudden shift in her voice.

She said nothing and just kept looking at him. When he just looked at her with astonishment, she set the yogurt container down and began to gesture comically with her hands that he should continue and with haste.

“It’s… Sam.” He finally said.

“Hi Sam, I’m Tracy.” She offered her hand in a formal shake and eventually Sam reached out and clasped his hands into hers. The moment he did, she gripped her other hand around both of theirs. It was firm but not hostile or challenging. “And now I am only going to say this once. You are a human being. Not some crazed infected _28-Days Later_ rage zombie nutcase. Not one of those black-eyed vicious weird alien son of a bitches. A Human Being.” She released Sam’s hand, then looked him square in the eyes and spoke as if she was quoting something from somewhere, “Do not allow yourself to suffer. Do not allow the suffering of others.”

Cryptically she turned away and began packing things into a duffle bag. Daylight was streaming in through the windows now but the angle of it hid her face, “I’ve got some weapons tucked up on the bridge. Why don’t you go grab those Sam and anything else up there you think would be useful.”

“Hold on.” Sam said. He stood and drew up alongside her, his height seemingly exaggerated in the small room. “I’m not…I’m not ungrateful. You… did more than just save my life. I just…” he ran one hand through his hair, “I just need to know why.”

She wouldn’t look up at him as she spoke, “Groups of people… or should I say ‘things’, like the ones holding you…. those aliens or whatever they are with the black eyes…..” She kept busy shoving matches and other small survival things into the inner pockets of the duffle bag, “Nothing they do is ever good. Everything they come around, every human they interact with… suffers. They are to pain and heartache what bees are to honey. And it’s wrong. And I will never ever sit by and watch them get away with it when I can do something.”

She glanced awkwardly up at Sam, “Even if it’s just rescuing damsel NBA players in distress.”

 

 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

**Camp Chitaqua. Three days later:**

 

Castiel groaned out half-heartedly and dragged his bare shoulder against the rough wood of the outer wall of a cabin. His shirt had been tugged part way off his shoulder and his pants were pooled around his ankles. There was a fresh hickey blooming on his collarbone and a skilled mouth swallowing and sucking on the semi hard flesh of his cock. But he wasn’t high enough and the sun was not at the right angle to keep the person on their knees in front of him blurred from view. It wasn’t enough to allow him lie to himself and pretend it was a different set of hands gripping into the muscle of his ass, a different mouth working up and down his length. He faked another groan but his hard-on lagged, and eventually the young man on his knees in front of him slowed and stopped.

When the man stood up, his eyes were half apologetic, and half accusing but his expression was obvious that he was feeling let down.

“Wait,” Castiel murmured and reached out to toy at the hem of the man’s collared shirt with his fingers, “Don’t go…. Gimme a minute….”

The young man brushed Castiel’s hand away and shook his head, the pain of rejection growing in his eyes, “I think I should go.” He turned quickly then and ran off.

Castiel sighed and sagged his weight fully against the wall now but didn’t bother to pull his pants up or straighten his shirt. The sun was warm on his skin where it touched and he tried to be content with that. But then the emptiness inside him, that pulling echoing ache, snaked its way up across his chest and sifted out into his arms. It felt as if tiny barbed hooks were digging in under his skin to catch and tear. Slowly he bent down and tugged his pants up. He was in the process of clasping the button at his waist when heavy booted footfalls came around the corner of the cabin.

Dean stopped a foot in front of him. Castiel held very still, his eyes focused not on the button and his fingers, but on the rough worn toes of Dean’s boots. The hooks under his skin stalled, and for one blinding moment Castiel held his breath, willing Dean to touch him. To reach out and grip his fingers into Castiel’s clothing, to yank him hard, close. Make feel. Blast through the ache and the emptiness, fill Castiel up and burn into his being.

“You’re a mess.” Dean remained standing away, the space between them holding like a solid barrier.

“So what?” Castiel slurred it out, knowing it would irritate Dean.

“C’mon man, this isn’t you….” Dean’s voice tried for some hint of friendly concern but all that came out was disappointment. He finally moved but only to flick a finger with distaste at the collar Castiel’s disheveled shirt.

With that those emotional hooks under Castiel’s skin sunk in and raked hard, and his head flew up, anger surging in his eyes. He seized hold of Dean’s jacket and in a move mimicking a beating he had given Dean in an alleyway a lifetime ago; he spun Dean around to slam him against the side of the cabin. It knocked the air out of Dean’s lungs and Cas punctuated that by strengthening his grip and pinning Dean against the wall with his body.

“What isn’t me Dean?!” Castiel shoved his hand against Dean’s crotch, drawing his palm roughly along the length of Dean’s limp cock in his jeans, “It sure as hell isn’t THIS is it?!”

Dean grimaced and shoved Castiel off of him, then pushed at Castiel once again to double the space between them, “Fuck you Cas! What’s wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?!” A high tight laugh came out of Castiel then, “What’s wrong with me?!?! Everything is wrong Dean!! Everything!” Castiel spat out, “My grace is GONE, I’m useless, hapless, HOPELESS. I have this emptiness clawing out a chasm inside me and no amount of drugs or sex seems to stop it! I’m broken and I’m hollow and the silence inside my head is DEAFENING….” Castile’s hands flew up to grip and pull at his hair, “And I’m desperately hopelessly in love with you and you don’t give a FUCK about any of it!!”

Where Dean had been trembling in anger before, he was now stone still.

Castiel turned away, his whole body shaking now. Panic raced through him and his hands began to tremble. His eyes went wide searching the ground for the answer to why he had just blurted out what he had. How could he have let that out? He swallowed hard and tucked his elbows close in, his hands still in his hair.

“Cas….” Dean’s voice sounded confused and bewildered, broken.

And then abruptly they weren’t alone. Several people came running around the corner of the cabin to pull to a halt near Dean.

Jager, one of the men in the group, spoke to Dean but Castiel could feel all eyes on him. “Dean, you need to come hear this…. Chuck and Brant caught a broadcast, an actual radio broadcast coming in. It’s a mayday coming from Illinois. Some town is under siege. Sounds like every Croat in the country is there.… thousands of them!”

Dean shifted, and Castiel could barely make out the ragged drag of breath Dean pulled in before he spoke, “Really?? Now??”

Castiel dropped his hands away from his head. He turned coldly and looked briefly at Dean with dead empty eyes, “We’re done here.” His voice echoed with a haunting finality.

Castiel looked away quickly and shouldered his way past Dean, then rounded past the group. He didn’t look back and he didn’t slow down. He strode as fast as he could back to his cabin, his cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment.

While Dean was off listening to the mayday broadcast, Castiel was packing. While the bulk of the camp was gathered at Dean’s side learning about the radio broadcast, Castiel was loading up the vehicle he normally took away from camp. No one was there to stop him as Castiel drove out of the camp and fled off down the road.

An hour later when Dean came charging into Castiel’s cabin looking for him, Castiel was long gone.

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	3. Chapter 3

****

 

 

**Chapter 3**

**Route 67, just north of St Louis, Missouri across the Mississippi River from Alton, Illinois. One week, four days later.**

 

Castiel let his car crawl to a halt as he slowed to a stop alongside the road. The early spring afternoon was unusually warm, and Castiel had all his windows opened and rolled down. As the vehicle stopped moving, he leaned out the driver’s window and scanned up the road.

The journey so far had not been easy. Castiel had left with minimal food and water, but had packed every last pill, tab and needle he had. Food and water had been fairly easy to find along his trip. The drugs were not. Two days ago he had swallowed the last of the pills. He had been sobering up, and now was sweating out the last of his high. His body felt weak, his hands shaky and his mouth had gone to cotton.

He held there, just watching the road for a long while. During his whole trek, he hadn’t come across a single Croat or demon. But he had come across a few survivors, and not all of them had been friendly. He knew he had to be cautious, because there were some out there that would kill him for his vehicle, or the gasoline he carried, or for his weapons. Thus far he had avoided any direct confrontation, but he was starting to think maybe being shot down wouldn’t be so bad. At least then he wouldn’t feel this abject stabbing emotional pain in his chest, he wouldn’t feel the emptiness left by his missing grace. And he wouldn’t feel the heartache and loneliness of missing Dean anymore.

The road ahead was primarily empty, but the bridge over the river was a different story. He could see where someone had built a crude barricade of wood and broken cars on this side of the bridge, but now it looked relatively abandoned.

He knew it meant nothing; there could still be survivors or demons lying in wait for someone to come up and try to cross the bridge.

“Fuck it.” Castiel leaned back in and planted his hands firmly on the steering wheel. He pulled off the side of the road and straightened the vehicle out. Then he gunned the engine and plowed ahead as fast as he could go. The car gained speed surprisingly fast and by the time he was up close to the barricade he could see a weak point where he could punch through. He slammed the gas pedal to the floor, gripped the steering wheel harder and grit his teeth.

He hit the barricade with enough force that the wood splintered and shattered, sending pieces flying into the air. He clipped the back end of an old pick up truck, and hooked its bumper on his passenger side headlight rim. The truck bed bent and ripped free, but it pulled hard on Castiel’s vehicle and sent it skidding in a half side twist. He drifted sideways for half the bridge’s length before his vehicle turned, causing him to swing facing back the way he had come. His tires burned and smoked against the pavement. Castiel let off the gas and hit his brakes, rumbling to a hard stop.

He stayed there, gripping the steering wheel and breathing erratically. And then he was aware suddenly of pain shooting through his bicep, his shoulder near his collarbone and his thigh. He glanced down surveying his body to see small to medium sized bits of wood stabbed into his skin. The one in his thigh was as big around as a pencil, while the one in his shoulder and bicep were smaller, but jagged.

Castiel gripped the one in his bicep tight, he yanked it free as he bit back a groan of pain. It bled but not a lot so he moved on to the one lodged in his shoulder. Again, he grabbed firm and yanked, pulling it free. This one bled out a bit more, but not worryingly so. By now his adrenaline was on over drive and the pain didn’t feel as severe.

He reached across the seat of his vehicle and tugged open a canvas bag there. He pulled out an old t-shirt and began to rip it into shreds with his hands and teeth. While he did this, he kept his eyes roaming around for any movement, any sign that someone else might be around. He bound up his bicep and wadded another bit of his shirt against his shoulder, then bound that up as well.

Finally he looked down to his thigh and grimaced. There was no telling how deep this one had gone and it was big enough around to have done some damage. Keeping a sizable bundle of the ripped shirt ready, he gripped the wood in his right hand and jerked it free. The pain was like a hot finger burning down into his leg and he cried out with it. Blood oozed out and flowed free, but it didn’t pulse or spurt. With trembling hands he shoved the shirt piece against the wound and pressed down hard. His breath was coming out in a hissing sound between his clenched teeth as he pressed and kept the wound staunched. The sweat was rolling in rivulets down his face, neck and back.

“Don’t go into shock….. don’t… breathe…breathe….” He told himself over and over, forcing the air to pull in deeper, exhale slower. “Grah…. That was so stupid. Shouldn’t have done that.”

While holding down the wound with one hand, he began to wrap his leg with his other. It was a long slow clumsy process and he had to pause every so often to keep from shaking too hard.

Finally he was done and the leg was wrapped tight. The pain was a harsh but muted throb now and his breathing was coming easier. Castiel let his head fall back against the seat and he looked out of his window.

He had stopped with the car pointing westward half way across the Mississippi river. The river itself smoothed away dark and greenish, slow and lazy under the afternoon sun. Castiel just lay there and watched the sun slowly crawl over the river, then watched as it sank gloriously down behind the tree line.

It wasn’t until the evening chilly spring air came floating into his car that Castiel stirred. He hadn’t remembered when he had shut off the car, but he leaned up and started the engine again. He pulled back a bit, then forward, turning and maneuvering the car into an east bound direction. Then slowly and with more caution, he drove across the bridge and into Illinois.

He was across the river and had passed through the bulk of the city of Alton when his radio suddenly came to life. It buzzed and spit distorted noise. He stopped his car and reached over to turn it off when suddenly the noise gave way to a voice. Or rather, voices.

Castiel froze and all the remaining color drained from his face. He fumbled with the volume knob and turned up the sound. The voices filled the inside of his car.

Angelic voices. The Song of the Host. The sound that had deserted Castiel when the last of his grace had slipped away.

Castiel cried out softly and reached with both hands to grip at the face place of the radio. He called out to them, begging them to hear him. Pleading with them to speak to him. Could they hear him? Where were they?

“Answer me!!” He cried out in a broken sob.

And then as suddenly as it had come, it faded and stopped.

Castiel screamed, rough and raw and feral. He clawed at the radio and when nothing happened he slammed his fist on the dashboard. He flung open his door and launched himself out to stand in the road. He threw his hands high into the air and begged the angels to come back. To talk to him. To connect with him.

When only silence came in answer Castiel fell to his knees, bent over, covered his face and wept into his hands.

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

 

 

**Frog Hollow Camp Ground and RV Park, just north of Grenada, Mississippi. An hour later:**

Sam drove up into the campground area slowly. Inching the car forward at a crawl, the headlights off in spite of the encroaching twilight. Tracy was in the passenger seat, window rolled down with the night vision binoculars up. She scanned the area, watching closely for any movement.

Once they confirmed that the area was abandoned, they parked, got out and got to work scavenging for supplies as well as checking out the grounds.

After they had left the tugboat and sent it on south down the river, they had hiked up to the outskirts of eastern Baton Rogue. They broke into a Super 8 motel and hid there for several days, letting Sam get his strength back. They found a nearby grocery store that wasn’t picked clean, and a pawnshop that had been locked tight and left alone. Sam managed to break into the pawnshop and they were able to find guns and ammunition, as well as a few other things like a decent compass, a leatherman OHT for Sam and a leatherman sidekick for Tracy. They also found usable nylon rope, two sleeping bags, plenty of batteries and several various flashlights and kerosene lanterns.

The day after that they went to a car lot and Sam hotwired a four-wheel drive SUV and they loaded it all up with their new gear. They broke into a JC Penny’s and made off with clothing and better boots for Sam. They had also taken the time to track down as many maps as they could find.

Then they had hit the road. Interstate 55 was the least blocked, so they had begun to follow that north. Sam’s idea was that Dean would probably be in Sioux Falls at Bobby’s and Sam decided they would head in that direction. After checking their maps they decided to head north until they could find a bridge to cross to the western side of the river.

Tracy had originally picked up the tugboat in Memphis. It was a wasteland like most other cities, but when she had been there a month ago it was free of Croats and demons. She felt it was best to try crossing there, and then head west.

They had passed the time in the car talking quietly. Sam told Tracy about Dean, and about Mary’s dying in a fire, about their Dad and how he had raised them on the road. He left out the supernatural aspect of his life, because that was something he wasn’t used to sharing with just anyone. Tracy told Sam about her abusive mother, about how she had run off to college to become an electronic engineer as soon as she could, and how she had wound up in Colorado Springs working for a radio station repairing their electronic equipment when it broke.

They had fallen into an easy companionship and when they stopped for a break in their drive, Sam gave Tracy a crash course on firearms.

Now they were scoping out the campground hoping to find a safe place to sleep for the night and something to eat for dinner. Tracy had gone towards the RVs that sat nearby and Sam had headed for the campground main offices. After twenty minutes or so, they met back at their SUV. Sam had energy bars, bags of chips and beef jerky collected into a plastic shopping bag. He’d also found a container of table salt and a silver letter opener, but kept that last piece hidden in his back pocket. Tracy had a set of keys and a new smile. It was a pleased smile full of delight.

“So get this….” She started and Sam made a sound of protest.

“You stole my line.” He feigned being offended and clutched the food out her reach, but the smile threatening to break through on his face wasn’t hidden for long.

“Yea well you said it the whole time we were pilfering the pawnshop so I figured it was my turn.” She waved the keys under his nose. “Guess what these unlock?”

“All my dreams?” Sam gave her a relaxed smile.

“If your dreams include a _1990_ Fleetwood Jamboree with its own electric generator and water pump, then yes. It is the key to your dreams.” Tracy tossed him the keys and Sam caught them easily in his free hand. “The other five RVs are trashed inside, ripped to hell. Two have human remains….” Her voice trailed off and she took a deep breath. She blinked her eyes dry and gestured towards the main office. “Anything worthwhile in there?”

Sam lifted the bag of snacks he had found, “This is about it. It’s pretty ransacked.” He paused, then pulled the silver letter opener out and held it out to her. “Can you put this with the other weapons so I don’t drop it accidentally?” Sam’s expression was casual, but inside he had to keep his breathing even. He had been trying to subtly test her to see if she was supernatural or a demon since they had left the tugboat. While she had proved capable and smart since then, he was still harboring a faint suspicion about how she had freed him from the group of guardian demons back in Baton Rouge.

“Sure.” Tracy nodded and pointed back behind the RVs, “There is a spot back in there where we can park the car and it’ll be pretty hidden. We should be okay here for the night.” She reached out and plucked the silver letter opener from his hands, turned it around in her fingers idly as if it were nothing.

“Careful, it’s kind of sharp…..” Sam’s eyes tracked her fingers and sure enough, the little subconscious hint planted in her brain made her slip and she nicked her thumb on the edge of the silver.

She winced and frowned, but had a normal human reaction otherwise. A small bead of blood bloomed on her skin and she pressed another finger against it to stop the bleed. “Tsk, man I’m a clutz.” She turned then and wandered back to the SUV to put the letter opener away in their gear.

Sam breathed out, and relaxed. Another test down. She had handled an iron crowbar back in the pawnshop, and now this little incident brought Sam closer to believing she was really just human.

They moved the car, parked it and masked it by some untended brush behind one RV. Then they unloaded a bit of gear and fresh clothes for the following day. Sam spent the next ten minutes trying to revive the electric generator but to no avail. It didn’t have enough gas, and they couldn’t spare what they had gathered for the car.

When he entered the RV to give Tracy the news, he found her frowning and standing with her hands on her hips. In front of her the booth seats and the table were in busted pieces. It appeared that she had been trying to set up the secondary bedding in the RV by lowering the table and converting the seats as they had originally been designed to do. But instead it was a broken mess.

“What happened?” Sam stood behind her and peered over. The wood was crumbled to grainy dust in places and falling apart. It was completely unusable.

“I dunno. Termites maybe? Shoddy workmanship?” She let out a long sigh and turned back to him, “There is only one bed, and you’ve been driving all day. I’ll sleep in the passenger chair up front there. You stretch your 3,000-mile long legs out and get some rest.”

She reached over to pat his arm gently as she went to step past him. Instead of allowing her to pass, Sam caught her hand and held her. There was a moment where he considered how risky this was, but she really had not shown any hint of being possessed or a something other than human. And he had admitted to himself miles ago on the road as they had talked, how he was captivated with her. He drew up closer and bent down a bit. This brought them more eye to eye as she looked up at him. “We could share. It might get colder and….” He paused and closed his eyes. His brows knit up and a sad look crossed his face. “It’s just been a really long time since I’ve been physically close to someone. I miss…just…being touched. Being held. I promise I won’t….”He opened his eyes and looked into hers.

“….Won’t what?” She blinked, her dark eyes surprised.

“Do anything you wouldn’t want me to do.” Sam said softly, he cradled her hand into both of his, just gently rubbing her fingers and the inside of her palm.

Tracy swallowed, her cheeks flushed rosy and she took a moment before she whispered out, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Sam gave her a smile then and let the fondness he had grown to feel for her shine through his eyes.

“Yea… okay it’s just…. Um….unexpected? You stayed in a different room when we were back in Baton Rouge. I mean, I didn’t think it was modesty. I’ve seen you naked and all.” She looked away, color coming up brighter into her cheeks. “And we haven’t known each other that long and….”

“Tracy, hey… if you aren’t comfortable with this we won’t do it. If you don’t trust me to just sleep beside you I’d understand. I’ll find another spot to crash. Wouldn’t be the first time I slept overnight in a car.” Sam chuckled out the last part but didn’t release her hand.

“No that isn’t it…. I trust you Sam. It’s just that I, um….” She was looking everywhere else except at him now, and her cheeks were crimson.

“Wait,” A big smile curled over Sam’s face and he tugged a little at her hand trying to get her to look at him. “Are you attracted to me?”

Her eyes flicked from the bed at the left of where they were standing, to his face then. Her brown eyes were wider and apprehensive. Her next words came tumbling out of her nervously, “Look, a guy like you never goes for the girl like me. You’re supposed to be with someone tall, with long silky black hair and perfect cheekbones or someone with cascading blonde curls and a brilliant smile. Someone who wears a size six dress and rock climbs on the weekends. Guys like you and girls like me? We get to be buddies, friends. That’s the way the world used to work. Dowdy overweight girls like me, we get the ‘let’s just be friends speech’. Being attracted to you would be disastrous!”

Sam looked confused and perplexed and saddened. “Disastrous? How’s that?”

“Because guys like you break hearts like mine.” Her voice wasn’t accusing but it held an edge of sadness to it. As if this was something written in stone in her life and she was powerless to escape it. Tracy carefully extracted her hand from his and with her whole face burning, she pressed past him. She fled out the door of the RV and into the darkness beyond.

Sam heaved out a deep sigh and lifted his hands up to look at his palms. Her hand had been so small inside his, so tiny. He had felt an overwhelming need to hang on to it and hold it. He let his hands fall to his thighs. He moved over to the open door and listened. When the sound of the SUV locking its doors hit his ears, he brought one hand up and smoothed it over his face. He’d lost this round.

 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

**Camp Chitaqua. That same evening:**

 

 

The vision came on Chuck like they always do. Painfully and without warning, sending him scrambling for paper with one hand and a bottle of whiskey with the other. The clarity of this one was not nearly as focused, and Chuck found himself fighting to make sense of what he was being shown.

In one heartbeat he was seeing Dean drunk and trashing his cabin, ripping maps and papers from his walls, smashing one of his chairs, upturning his table. The fleshy part of his palm was gouged and bleeding.

In the next instance he could see Castiel, on his knees bent over with incredible grief pouring from him as he sat next to his vehicle on some unknown street.

Next he was shown a bridge with a half crashed barricade and a sign that said “You are now leaving Missouri, Come Back Soon!”

That faded and shifted and he was looking at a twisting glowing pulsing ball of blue white energy. It churned and shifted in the center of a wide grassy area, hovering. All around it hundreds of roses were blooming and growing in every color and every shade.

Finally the vision swung around and Chuck could see Sam. Just Sam, not Lucifer inside Sam, just Sam on his own. He was sitting on the edge of a camper bed, his head held in his hands and a forlorn look washing across his face.

Chuck came back to reality with a jolt so blunt he nearly fell from his chair. He took a hard moment to revisit what he had seen, only this time instead of scribbling it all down, he jumped to his feet and headed out the door. He met Jager half way to Dean’s cabin and told him to get Bobby and find him at Dean’s.

When Chuck got to Dean’s cabin, he didn’t bother to knock. He threw open the door and held his hands up in front of him in a placating gesture. Dean had whirled around to bark at him, to eject him from the cabin but Chuck stepped inside cautiously anyway.

The interior of the cabin was wrecked, just as Chuck had seen it in his vision. “You cut your hand on the chair when you broke it. Might have a splinter or two.”

Dean scowled and looked down to his hand. The wound was there, blood smeared far up past his wrist onto his forearm. “Whadda want Chuck?” His voice came out dry and broken.

“I had a new vision.” Chuck nodded to the open door, his hands still up as if he was dealing with a wild animal. “Just waiting for Bobby to get here.”

Dean huffed out a grunt, and went about bandaging up his hand as they waited.

Soon Jager had helped Bobby muscle his wheelchair into the cabin, and then Jager left them alone. Bobby looked from Dean, to the mess in the cabin and then to Chuck.

“Oh well, this oughta be good news. Yay.” Bobby didn’t hold back his sarcasm.

“I had a new vision….” Chuck started.

But Dean barked out, “You said that already. Get on with it.” He face was surly and grim and he wouldn’t look at either Bobby or Chuck.

“I saw you tearing this place up. Saw a bridge, probably over the Mississippi river with a broken barricade. Saw Castiel, out of his car on the side of the road weeping in pain….”Chuck eyed Dean carefully. Dean said nothing, but hid his face and clenched his hands into tight fists. Chuck continued, “I saw a ball of what I think might be angel grace, somewhere, floating over a grassy area. And I saw Sam.”

Dean turned then, his face screwed up in a pissed off manner, “What do you mean you saw Sam?! Don’t you mean Lucifer? Where was he so I can finally kill that son of a bitch….”

“Dean it wasn’t Lucifer. It was Sam. Himself, inside his own head with his own agency free of Lucifer. He was sitting on the edge of a camper bed. He looked sad but he looked healthy.” Chuck still had not let his hands down but he flicked his eyes over to Bobby.

“Dean, then Cas….the bridge… angel grace…Sam…” Bobby was mulling everything over in his head. “Was that the order you saw everything in?

Chuck nodded.

“A bridge leading out of Missouri… what are the chances it’s into Illinois where that distress call came from?” Bobby paused, rubbing his fingers against his beard thoughtfully. “If I show you a picture of some bridges, you think you can pick out which one it was?” Bobby speared Chuck with a hard look.

Chuck nodded again.

“Good. Now git me back to my cabin so we can figure out where we’re headed off to.” Bobby swung his wheelchair around to face the door.

“Bobby, what the fuck are you talking about? What the hell are you doing?!” Dean let the anger and the hurt lace through his voice.

Bobby frowned over his shoulder at Dean. “Don’t sass me boy. We’re gonna go get your brother and your angel back. Now shut up and get me to my cabin.”

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
>  http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
>  http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	4. Chapter 4

****

 

 

**Chapter 4**

 

 

 **Camp Chitaqua. Late the next morning, 10:56 AM** :

 

The air had been chilly and dew heavy in the early pre-dawn when Dean had sat up from his bunk and rolled his aching body off his cot. He was still wearing his clothing from the day prior but his feet were bare. They touched down tentatively to the cold wood floor of his cabin and he winced. He pressed the heel of one hand against his left eye, pressing at its rough dryness. He’d had a total of three hours of sleep, and even then he hadn’t fully drifted deep.

He, Bobby and Chuck had been pouring over maps in Bobby’s cabin for most of the night, trying to figure out where the bridge was in Chuck’s vision. Bobby had a set of old encyclopedias printed around 1989, but it had photos in it and one of them turned out to be the bridge they were looking for. It was the span of Route 67 that stretched to the north of St Louis across the Mississippi river into Alton, Illinois.

Dean had silently cursed Castiel’s tenacity and stubbornness. It would be just like the former angel to drive hell bent across the country, days out of Dean’s reach headed right onto where the Croats were all swarming.

Once they identified the bridge they were going to call it quits for the night, but as they were taking their leave of Bobby’s cabin, Chuck had been hit with another vision. He had seen Castiel’s vehicle run off the road, the front end of it smashed beyond use and its back wheels spinning aimlessly in the air. The vision lasted two seconds and then fled, and Chuck had thrown up all over Bobby’s floor.

Dean had dug his fingernails so hard into the flesh of his fisted hands he nearly drew blood.

Now, bleary eyed and with more worry than anger crawling around inside his gut, he looked around the interior of his lodgings. He looked at the local maps he had torn off the walls, the diagrams of places they had raided shredded alongside. He looked at the empty liquor bottles scattered about and the ammo boxes tipped open. He looked at his knife sharpening tool and the three hunting knives that used to be on his table, now shoved to the floor. Finally his eyes rested on a worn photo someone had taken, a Polaroid whose edges were peeling up. It had come to rest near the foot of Dean’s bed.

He stood up, and walked over to it. Carefully he plucked it from where it had fallen. In it, Chuck and Castiel were looking up; caught unaware by who ever had taken the picture. Their faces bleached lighter by the flash, their eyes wide. The blue of Castiel’s irises looked like faded out denim and his mouth, the pink of it was pale save for the thin bright red edge where it vanished between his parted lips.

The abrupt emotion that came up, surging forward from somewhere deep inside Dean’s gut, surprised him. The image clasped in his fingers began to tremble and Dean nearly crumpled it when he tried to steady it with both hands.

“So stupid… you stubborn…. Bull-headed son of ……you selfish fucker….” The words were falling in broken breaths from his lips and he wasn’t sure whom he was cursing, Castiel or himself. When he sucked in a drink of air, it was wet and close to a sob.

The flash of a memory came into Dean’s head of Castiel seated in the passenger side of the Impala, chewing away on a burger and smiling at how they made him very happy. Dean was caught in it; his mind’s eye focused on that small smile, the way Castiel’s mouth curled at the corner. And then more memories came flooding through Dean. Castiel standing too close to him in the bathroom. Castiel smiling that smile again as he and Dean stumbled away from the brothel that one night. Castiel slamming open the door, telling them he had ridden a bus, no longer a full angel any longer…. And then marched over and sliced Pestilence’s finger clean off a moment later. Over and over again, memories of Cas being there for him before, and after, he had lost Sam.

The old fear was creeping back up through Dean’s throat again and when Cas’s recent outburst played in his head once more Dean squeezed his eyes closed tight. Crisp tears were forced out but they were meager, bitter and stung. Dried out from his lack of sleep.

For one crazy moment Dean inhaled and he could smell Cas, the scent of the former angel suddenly, overwhelmingly, strong in his nose. It was that weird combination of the scent of the air before a thunderstorm, sun dried cotton and a hint of the incense Castiel would burn in his cabin. It was so strong that Dean’s eyes flew open and he turned quickly half expecting Castiel to be standing behind him like a hundred times before, too close with that odd puzzled look on his face.

When Cas wasn’t there, and the scent was gone, an actual sob broke free from Dean and he did half crush the picture in his hands. “No, no, nononono…. I can’t… can’t do this….”

He was interrupted by a light knock at his door, and Chuck calling to him. He drew in a heavy breath, pushing the tears on his face away with a rough hand. He shoved the Polaroid into his back pocket and barked out for Chuck to come in.

Chuck opened the door only part way and leaned in, “Listen, ah…. Bobby’s asking when you were going to come back so we can talk about….”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Dean pulled his fearless leader persona back on and kept his voice gruff and unwavering.

“Yea but…”Chuck tried to continue.

“No.” Dean said firmly and turned around to spear Chuck with a hard look. His eyes were bloodshot and hot. “No more talking. If we are going to find this angel grace, find out if Sam is free of that asshole archangel, find Cas…..we aren’t gonna do it sitting around talking in Bobby’s cabin. Pack up Chuck. You and I are leaving. Bobby will keep things together here. But you and me? We have to get to Illinois.”

“Wait… me?! Why me??!” Chuck looked aghast.

“Because I’ll need your visions. And you can drive the first leg while I sleep.” Dean wasn’t holding still now. He was moving with a purpose, grabbing a large duffle bag and a backpack. Shoving in a few changes of clothing, tossing in his knives and ammo. Gathering two shotguns and a rifle from where they rested on the wall and packing them in as well. Finding his father’s journal and shoving that in a side pocket. Opening a drawer and bringing out flasks of holy water, silver knives, chalk, a can of spray paint, salt. Only then does he pause and look back at Chuck still hovering at his door.

“What are you waiting for Chuck? Get a move on.” Dean pointed a determined finger at the prophet, “If you aren’t ready to go in fifteen minutes I’m throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you off as is.”

Chuck vanished then, closing the door loudly behind him as he fled.

Dean paused and scrubbed both of his hands over his face before he dropped them to his sides. Then one hand reached behind him to finger at the edges of the Polaroid stuck in his back pocket.

Quietly he said, “I do too give a fuck about it Cas.”

Then in a harsh whisper said, “More than you know.”

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

**Greenville, Illinois. Earlier that same morning:**

 

Castiel had gotten back into his car eventually, though he couldn’t recall actually doing it. Emotionally drained, and mentally weary, his body had gone into autopilot and driven himself out of Alton’s city limits. But just past those, Castiel had run into his first Croat in over a week. When he had first come up on the figure shuffling in the road, he had swerved not to hit them thinking it was another person wandering on foot.

The car had skid against the slick early morning pavement and spun out of control when Cas couldn’t muster the strength in his wounded arm and shoulder to snap the wheel back around. The vehicle had plowed off the road and crashed into a ditch. Castiel hit his head on the steering wheel and was knocked out.

Now as he came to, his head pounding for numerous reasons, he discovered that some of the pounding he was hearing was actually the Croat he swerved to avoid.

It was a man, dirty and desiccated, plastered across the passenger side window and slapping his hands in slow smacks against the glass. The Croat’s blood and puss were smeared across the window in his pitiful attempt at breaking through to get at Castiel.

Cas paused and frowned. He didn’t remember rolling up the windows and now his gaps in memory were beginning to worry him. While that thought lingered, he looked down to make a check of his wounds. There was a new cut on his forehead and the wound on his shoulder was bleeding a bit. His leg was fine however and he had no other new injuries. He freed himself from his seatbelt and reached over to grab one of his bags now on the passenger side floor. Once in hand, he hefted it back over the seat into the rear of the car. Then he opened the glove compartment and removed a Glock he had stashed there. He clicked the safety off.

He shuffled awkwardly over into the passenger side seat. The Croat on the other side of the window was making odd choked rasping sounds and its hands had picked up their pace. Cas rolled the window down just enough for the Croat to get its fingers wiggled in over the window’s edge.

Cas lifted the Glock and stuffed the nozzle out through the top of the window. The metal of it made a rough hard sound as it dragged against the edge of the glass. He pointed it slightly down at the Croat’s head and fired. Brain goo, bits of bone and blood splattered in a wet gush against the window, and the Croat dropped. Cas pulled the gun back into the car and noted the gore flecked on its barrel. He clicked the safety on and looked around for something to wipe it clean.

He dug around inside the glove compartment for a moment and pulled out a small square sealed package. With a smirk he opened and pulled out the condom from inside it. He rolled the condom over the nozzle of the pistol, the stretched its edges and worked it into a knot to hold it over the gun. Satisfied that would keep the Croat’s blood from getting on him, he twisted around to shove the gun into the back of his jeans.

It took him about twenty minutes to extract himself and his things from the stranded car after that. He consolidated everything as best as he could into his backpack, trying not to leave any ammo behind. His angel blade he strapped to his calf under his pant leg but he figured he’d need to carry the semi-automatic rifle in his hands.

He stood before it for a moment, geared up and ready to walk off. He glanced back the way he had come, west, and then looked down the road where he had been aiming to drive to, east. Then he turned to face south across a grassy pasture that stretched away from the road. He shifted his backpack square against his back, slung the rifle over his shoulder and began walking in that direction.

Soon he was up to his hips in faded grasses starting to revive for spring and though the sky was grey with clouds Cas tipped his face up. He headed for the tree line nearby and kept walking.

 

 

 ------------------------------------------------------------ 

 

 

 

 

 

**Frog Hollow Camp Ground and RV Park, just north of Grenada, Mississippi. Same time:**

 

 

The morning sun had come in and hit Tracy square in the eyes, waking her early. She pulled herself out of the SUV’s back seat where she had curled up with a sleeping bag, only to find one leg had gone numb and tingly. She opened up one of the doors and slid out, pulling herself free from the sleeping bag. She limped a step then tried to shake the circulation back into her leg. While she was doing this, Sam had opened the side door of the RV a few feet away and stepped out. He paused to look at her before shutting the door.

“Foot’s asleep….” She rolled her eyes in gentle annoyance, but wouldn’t look directly at him.

Sam could tell she was still feeling uncomfortable over their talk the night before when she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but Tracy cut him off when she said, “Did you sleep okay?”

“As best as can be expected.” Sam said quietly. Then he stepped over closer. Hesitantly he spoke again, “Tracy, there are some things I need to ask you about, but before I do, I need you to do something for me.” He gave a nervous chuckle. “And some of it might seem a little weird.”

At that she looked up at him, sleepy still, and frowned. “We aren’t gonna talk about last night are we?”

“No this is something different.” He held up his hands as if to say ‘bear with me’, and he moved to open the back of the SUV. He took out a can of spray paint and the container of salt he had found. He walked over to an open space of the cement slab the RV was parked on, and shook the spray paint can hard. Then he bent down and marked out a good-sized circle using the paint. Inside that he drew a five-pointed star, and then he drew in several squiggly looking letters and symbols.

Tracy shuffled a little nervously from one foot to another, “Sam that… looks all kinds of satanic heavy-metal black magic weirdness there….”

“I know, but like I said…” Sam stepped back and gestured to the circle. “Would you mind standing in the center and please try not to scuff the paint.” He placed the spray can on the ground along with the salt, held his hands up and stepped back even further.

Grumbling, Tracy made hesitant steps towards the circle. “The good looking ones are always the crazy fuckers….” She whispered under her breath. She lifted one foot and stepped into the circle, then brought her other foot in. She was careful not to smear or smudge the paint. Once she was standing inside it, she looked up at him expectantly.

Sam nodded, then picked up the salt and with it, made another circle around the outer edges of the spray painted one. When he was done, he put down the salt beside the spray can and walked back to the SUV. He hopped up onto the hood of the car and just sat there, watching her. He rested his hands lightly on his thighs and took a deep breath.

“Remember when I said my Mom was killed in a house fire?” Sam asked.

Confused, Tracy looked from him, down to the circles, then back up again, “Yes.”

“It wasn’t some generic house fire. You know those guys that were holding me prisoner back on the riverboat?” Sam took in another slow filling breath, expanding his lungs as deeply as possible.

“Uh, yea.” Tracy quirked an eyebrow at him and her frown grew deeper.

“Those people….those things… are not aliens. They’re demons. And it was a demon that came into our home that night and murdered my Mom, set fire to our house.” Sam’s fingers tensed visibly against the meat of his thighs as he spoke.

Tracy narrowed her eyes at him in disbelief, “Demons. Are real? For really real demons.”

Sam gave a light shrug and tipped his head as if to acknowledge how crazy it sounded. “Demons are real. So are vampires, werewolves, shape shifters….”

“Bigfoot?” Tracy raised one brow.

“Nope. Myth.” Sam chuckled at that.

Tracy took a moment and scrutinized Sam, her eyes narrowing. “So your Dad, raised you and your brother on the road….”

“To hunt these things. To find the demon that killed Mom. To keep other people from being hurt by the monsters creeping in the dark.” Sam said simply. Dean’s voice echoed in his head a moment saying ‘Saving people. Hunting things. The Family Business.’ And he smiled sadly a little.

Tracy caught that and she looked away a moment, then down at her thumb, bandaged up from last night when she had cut it on the silver letter opener. Then she looked down at the circles and the symbols. Her head came up slowly and she nailed Sam with an incredulous look, “You’re testing me!”

“To make sure you aren’t a shape shifter, or a vampire, or…” He paused, “A demon pretending to be my rescuer so that some demon faction can get their hands on me.”

Tracy raised both eyebrows at that and her back straightened distinctively. The motion caught Sam off guard a moment because it was a very Dean like expression; indignation mixed with a heavy dose of ‘you gotta be kidding me’.

Tracy almost laughed out loud and said, “Are you serious?!”

“How come you haven’t asked me why I was on that riverboat yet? Because you already knew how I got there?” Sam held his hands very still now and kept an even gaze on her, watching.

“No of course not!” Tracy dropped her eyes and looked to her feet. She took in a breath and then in a small voice she said, “I tried to. Tried to ask you. When I was unhooking the I.V. from your arm on the boat. But you were mumbling things, saying ‘Croatoan’ and ‘demons’ and ‘possession’ it sounded like. And then later I just….” She gently wrapped her arms around herself and raised her face to look at him. The attitude had drained off and instead there was just pained compassion in her eyes. “I just figured you would talk about it when you were ready. Sam, you were tied naked…. To a chair!…. And drugged! They had a catheter inside you. A catheter! Whatever it was you had been through it couldn’t have been good or easy…. And I wasn’t going to be the one to ask you to relive it again. I didn’t feel like I had the right.”

Sam was silent for a long time, just reading her face carefully, a mix of emotions were playing out in his eyes. Finally he said softly, “Step out of the circles Tracy.”

She huffed a hurt sigh, obviously annoyed at his lack of trust. She stood still a moment, refusing to look at him again. “You don’t believe me…”

“Step out of the circles Tracy.” He said it again, just as gently. Inside his chest was clenching up, worried that he had read her wrong, that she was a demon playing at being his friend, biding her time when she could get the drop on him.

“Fine.” She brought her face up and looked at him then, her jaw held firm and her brows up high. Her dark eyes held the edges of anger. She strode out of the devil’s trap with ease, then past the salt circle without a flinch. She folded her arms over her chest and scowled at him. “I’m out. What the ever-lovin’ fuck was that all about?!”

He took a moment and let the relief flood through his being. Then he slid off the hood of the car, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re not a demon.” Sam said it easily, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“And why would I be?! Seriously Sam… you’ve seen me bleed, seen me eat, sleep… probably heard me snore by now….You’ve seen me do everything but gasp in orgasm!” Her anger clipped a bit, and she choked out a sound having surprised herself at blurting that out. As color flooded up into her cheeks she saw the half smirk that was hinting on his lips. Giving off a small frustrated growl, she marched up to him and poked him hard in the center of his chest. “Dammit Sam! Why would you think I was one of those horrible black eyed fuckers?!”

Sam didn’t answer with words. Instead he reached over and scooped her up into a warm embrace. He wrapped himself around her and held her close, burying his nose into the soft tendrils of her hair just behind her ear. The action stunned the fury rumbling up through her and she stilled.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

He pulled back to gently clasped her face in his hands. Sam’s eyes were full of sadness now, “I’m sorry I had to do that to you. Yes, demons are real. They are partly behind the infection….the Croatoan virus… that makes people into the…um, rage zombies…. as you call them.” Sam paused now and let his eyes linger over her face, her now wide dark eyes, her brows lifted in concern. “I’m sorry I doubted you, but I had to be sure.”

Her brows knit up a little as she looked at him, “Was it because you were just doing what your Dad taught you or was it because you couldn’t believe an chubby girl could pull off a decent rescue operation?”

Sam brushed his thumb across her cheek and felt his chest warm up, “Definitely not the latter. You are so remarkable Tracy, and yea I still want to know how you learned to do some of the things you do…. You’re not a trained hunter yet you’ve managed to survive and come so far….” He closed his eyes, and shook his head a little. “I didn’t test you because I doubted you could pull all this off. I did it because the life I’ve lead so far has broken me and my brother so deeply we have a hard time seeing any other way sometimes.”

Tracy closed her eyes and her whole body relaxed. “Sam….” She whispered, “Okay.”

Sam’s eyes opened, and his gaze flickered to her lips briefly. “Okay?”

“I get it. I understand.” She didn’t move at first, then she slowly opened her eyes. Taking in how close they were, how he was cradling her face so tenderly, made her swallow nervously. As her cheeks warmed with color again she gently pulled his hands away from her. “We should get on the road.”

Sam drew in a resigned sigh as she turned away towards the SUV. He nodded in agreement and began to do what need to be done to pack up and get moving.

Soon they were on the road again, driving north towards Memphis. Tracy drove and Sam shuffled through the maps they had collected. They discussed what route might be best to take once they were on the other side of the Mississippi, and how best to get to Sioux Falls and Bobby’s place.

The entire time however, Sam kept stealing glances at Tracy. He tracked the dark soft tendrils of hair that dusted the back of her neck, the curve of her lips, how her nose wiggled when she said certain vowels. He thought that while she might not be someone a magazine would put on its cover, she was incredibly beautiful to him. He knew it had everything to do with how her personality shone through, and suddenly he understood what Castiel had meant when he spoke about how bright Dean’s soul looked.

That made a whole new level of warmth bloom in Sam’s chest. Deep down he smiled at himself. It had been a long time since anyone had made him feel like this.

When noon rolled around and Sam’s stomach rumbled, he chanced it and reached over to gently close his hand around one of Tracy’s on the steering wheel. He let his hand linger and stroked against the side of her palm with his thumb.

“Hungry?” He ventured with a hopeful look her way. He was slow to remove his hand and bring it back over to hold the edge of the map spread over his lap.

She shook her head instead and pointed to a sign they were coming up on. “We’ll be in Memphis in about another fifteen minutes. How about we get through the city and we’ll pull over for food after we cross the river and get on I40?”

Sam pulled out another map from below the one he was already scanning and started scrutinizing the new one. Then he nodded, “Yea okay, but when are we going to talk about that gasping orgasm thing?” He didn’t look up and kept his eyes on the map as casual as could be.

Tracy’s cheek flooded crimson and the color flushed all the way up to the tips of her ears. She let out a small cough and side-eyed him. Her mouth pulled into a twist as if she was choosing between smiling and frowning. Then she put her eyes back on the road. He was obviously baiting her, so her voice was playfully sarcastic when she replied. “I dunno. Maybe when Lucifer comes tap dancing outta hell…..”

There was less than a half second pause.

Sam went wide-eyed, breath coming in strangled heaves. He was starting to shake and began shoving the maps off his lap and onto the floor.

“Stop the car!!” He demanded. Panic in his voice. “STOP THE CAR!”

Tracy glanced over, her foot lifting from the accelerator but not engaging the brakes. Sam’s face had paled and he was starting to open his passenger side door with the car still in motion.

“SAM!!” Tracy yelled and hit the brakes but Sam was halfway out of the vehicle and stumbling along the pavement trying to keep his feet under him. She threw on the parking brake and struggled out of her seatbelt. By the time she was out of the car and around to where Sam was alongside the road, he was bent over vomiting up what little he had left in his stomach.

“Sam….” Her voice came soft, concerned.

He held out one hand to hold her back, showing he didn’t want her to approach further. When he had stopped, he stood up slowly, drawing to his full height and took a step warily back from her.

“Don’t joke about things like that.” He looked pale, shaken. Frightened.

“About hell? Lucifer?” Tracy looked at him confused and with worry edging her eyes.

“Yes.” Sam said firmly, then softer, “Please……Don’t, don’t say that name…..”

He paced a little, trying to draw air into his lungs and calm himself. The name of the archangel had sent him spiraling into an anxiety attack and he struggled to get himself calm.

“I don’t understand. Does this have to do with demon stuff and hunter stuff?” She took a few small steps toward him, her hands held lightly at her sides.

“Yes….yes.” Sam bent over, his hands on his knees. “And angels. And why that demon killed my Mom and…oh….” His head sank lower.

“Angels are real too.” Tracy paused.

“Listen I just…. Not ready to talk about that yet….” Sam squeezed his hands tight against his kneecaps.

“Okay…. Okay.” She approached him carefully and reached out to touch his shoulder. When he made no move to shrug her off, she stroked her hand down his back.

They stayed that way for a long while, Sam just getting his breathing under control and Tracy just standing next to him. Eventually both her hands were running in soothing circles across his back and the touch seemed to help center him.

Finally he straightened and wiped the corner of his mouth with his hand. “Sorry about that.”

“For what?” She looked up at him as if what he said made no sense.

“For freaking out like that.” Sam’s frowned.

Tracy waved one hand in the air in a lax manner, “Oh please.” Then she looked at him seriously, but the look was rife with tenderness. “Sam. You were held against your will by a truly craptastic group of people…. er…. demons. I can’t even begin to imagine the awful stuff they put you through.” But before he could look uncomfortable about the subject, she thumbed back at the SUV. “You okay now? Good to drive a little more? Still hungry?” She scrunched up her nose as she said that last part.

Sam shook his head and tried to bring up a smile, but it came out weak. “I’m…okay to travel. Not sure I want anything in my stomach now though.”

She just nodded and paused. Then she turned unexpectedly and wrapped her arms around his middle. She gave him a quick squeeze and let go, heading for the car.

Sam blinked a moment and then followed.

Once they were both in the SUV and back on the road again, they were quiet for a long time. After a while, Tracy drug down into one of the pockets on her cargo pants. She pulled something out and then reached across over to Sam.

He then found a pack of gum being waved under his nose. He took it from her with a questioning look.

Tracy glanced his way and shot him a playful smile as if to bring him back into a better mood. “Sorry Sam. I don’t care how hot you are. Post vomit breath is rank on everyone.”

He broke out into a surprised laugh as he unwrapped the gum. He returned her smile slowly and popped the gum into his mouth.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
>  http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
>  http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	5. Chapter 5

****

 

 

**Chapter 5**

 

**Somewhere along I55 north of Cape Girardeau, Missouri. Later that evening:**

 

Getting through Memphis had been more difficult than Tracy had previously suspected. While the waterfront and the marinas were relatively in tact, the city itself was a disaster. She and Sam had to abandon the freeway and drive their way through the city surface streets. Eventually they had made their way to the bridge and drove across the river.

They had driven off onto I40 for about half an hour when the highway before them just ended in scorched earth and massive upheavals of rock and stone.

They decided to back track, and turned northwest on I55 to St. Louis.

Once again they tried to swing west on route 63 to Jonesborough but that way was just as destroyed. They resolved themselves to head to St. Louis and continued on, still hoping to head to Sioux Falls and Bobby’s place. Still hoping to find Dean.

Sam drove for two more hours. They hadn’t gone ten minutes past Sikeston where I57 split off to head into Illinois and they abruptly they had to stop.

Both of them opened their doors and leaned out to look.

Ahead of them the highway was clogged with thousands of burnt out cars and trucks. The road was choked with them, crushed and mangled and piled against each other as if a giant wave of fire had washed over and obliterated them. It went on for miles and miles, as far as the eye could see.

Trembling Sam exited their SUV and walked with shaking steps to the front of the car. He stood there for a long heavy moment, eyes sweeping over the husks of the cars, the acres of bent twisted metal, the burnt earth around them. His eyes went into a daze and he reached out one hand ever so slowly to spread his fingers wide towards the destruction as if he was reliving a memory. Finally he paled and leaned heavily back against the nose of the SUV.

Cautiously Tracy came around to stand just at the edge of the passenger side headlights. She waited, watching him, silent. But when she saw his shoulders begin to pinch up ever so slightly she pulled closer. She rested one hand on the hood of the car next to him, but the other she brought up to rest lightly against his arm.

He didn’t look at her, and instead kept his eyes on the burnt out vehicles on the road. “I did this.”

Tracy frowned, glanced at the sheer scope of the destruction and looked back at him unbelieving, “Sam, that’s not possible. It would have taken something like a missile or a bomb or something nuclear to do this.”

“No. I remember. He made me see this. He made me watch.” Sam blinked, eyes wet with remorse. “He stood here…. WE stood here….and he stretched out his hand and just…..roasted them all. They were fleeing the cities and the Croats and he….We…”

“Hold on. Back up….Sam… Sam!” She tugged hard on his arm now, and kept it up until he looked over at her. His eyes were devastated, echoing the death that was bunched up over the road ahead of them.

She spoke gently and tightened her grip on his arm, “ Sam one man, even two men, they would need a big weapon, massive firepower to do this… you couldn’t….”

“I could. I did.” He rolled his body slightly to lean on the hood but still face her, “Fire power? I had an archangel inside me, walking around in my skin.”

Her brows furrowed and she titled her head, “An angel….? An Archangel??”

His face bunched up with pain and disgust, “I had Lucifer, the Morningstar, one of the most powerful of Heaven’s archangels riding me around the globe like I was a fucking vespa. He used my hands Tracy….” Sam lifted his hands up to emphasize, opening and closing his fingers over and over, “My HANDS…. To kill hundreds, thousands….. probably millions!”

“Okay… wow… whoa…. Hold on. I just got used to the idea that demons were real. Give me a minute here…” Tracy took in a quick breath and her brows knit into a frown. Her mind working to catch up.

“But, if an angel….an actual angel….. _The Lucifer_ , was inside you, you weren’t in charge of your actions right? He what… possessed you? Like a demon would? He brought on the end of the world and whatever while he was in you? Okay but you didn’t do it, he was inside you making you do those things….right?” Tracy shifted both her hands to clasp over his and to bring them down as she puzzled this out loud.

Calmly Sam reversed their hands so that he was holding hers. He pulled them hard against his chest and he leaned in at her, jutting his chin out and spearing her with a heated look. He wanted her to understand the severity of what he had done. The seriousness of it, “Angels can’t just possess someone like a demon can. Angels have to be granted permission to enter.” He tightened his hold on her hands as her eyes began to swim with the horror of what Sam was saying. He leaned in closer and brushed his cheek against hers so he could whisper harshly into her ear.

“Lucifer asked me to be his vessel and I said yes.” Sam bit his lip as he nosed against her ear, “I. SAID. YES.”

There was half a heartbeat that passed between them and suddenly Tracy was squirming to be free, shoving Sam away and yanking her hands back. She stumbled and her hip clipped the nose of the SUV. She kept walking back until she was six or seven feet away from their car.

Her eyes were wide with disbelief and dread. Her hands fluttered nervously, rubbed and tugged along her sides, fidgeted with her pockets. She glanced at all the ruined cars, the remains of what was left of thousands of people and a choked sound came up out of her mouth. She had to turn away from it, from him and try to breathe.

“No…. no…that’s not true.” She mumbled wildly, babbling. “You wouldn’t be part of that. You wouldn’t….. There can’t be some crazed murderous legendary angel…. The destruction is because of the rage zombies. The infection, the virus it came from some lab some place, some bio-warfare….”

Sam pushed off the front of the SUV and took a step towards her, “Half true. But the lab was run by demons, demons who were bent on bringing about the end of the world so Lucifer could run free again and scrub the earth free of humanity.”

“No…. this is crazy… it can’t be like that.” Tracy wrapped her arms around herself again like she had done back when they had stopped before. “There is no evil like that in the universe….. it’s just people, people being shitty to each other… there is no Devil….”

“There is. Lucifer is real. Demons are real. Ghosts and werewolves and vampires and zombies are all real…..” Sam took another step closer, and then another. “Tracy we’ve been over this. Dean and I, we fought them. Our whole lives. Fought them all. Slaughtered them….”

There was a long pause as Tracy stilled. Then she spoke carefully, “If you and Dean fought them, killed them…..” She turned on him, her eyes narrowed down to keen hot dark embers, “Then why the fuck did you say yes?!”

He stopped, caught off guard by her sudden anger.

“Why in God’s name would you ever say yes Sam?! If you hunted evil, fought against it all your life as you say you did, why…. WHY… why would you DO this??” Her hands fell away from her body and tightened into fierce fists.

Sam dropped his eyes and looked at his hands, “I thought…. I thought there was no other way to stop him. I thought…..” He drew in a breath, “….stupidly…that once he was inside me I could control him. I could put him back into the cage he had been freed from….”

Sam looked up at her with remorse and sorrow in his eyes. “From the cage I had accidentally freed him from. I thought I could make it right, put him back, fix my mistakes.”

Tracy’s anger softened, but did not abate entirely. “You really fucked things up Sam.”

He looked away from her and hung his arms at his sides. She stood there a long moment processing everything. For a few minutes she turned away from him, her frustration and anger evident in the stiffness of her arms. Finally she calmed and wandered over to stand beside him. She didn’t move to touch him.

Instead she simply said, “This is what we are gonna do. You’re gonna get back in the car and I’m gonna drive. We’re gonna back track and pick up I57 and head into Illnois, get north of St. Louis somehow, cut back west when the way opens up.” She took in a long breath and the way she said her next words came out reminded Sam of Ellen, years ago, before everything went to hellfire. “While I drive you are gonna talk. You’re going to tell me how this all started, how you even got to the point where you could free Lucifer in the first place. Then you’re gonna keep talking. You’re going to tell me everything. Got it?”

Sam nodded. “Got it.”

Tracy moved away from him and went around to the driver’s side of the SUV. She climbed in and started adjusting the seat and the rear view mirrors from how Sam had them configured for his huge size. She brushed a tear off her cheek and gripped the steering wheel tight. Once Sam had climbed in on the passenger side and she had started the car, she took in a deep breath. She pulled the car around and they headed back the way they had come.

Sam clicked his seatbelt on and began, “When I was six month old, a yellow eyed demon named Azazel came into my nursery and stood next to my crib…..”

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

 **The outskirts of Des Moines, Iowa. Same time** :

 

Their jeep was useless. Some how while Dean was driving and navigating through the remains of Des Moines, they had hit a patch of sharp debris and blown out two of their tires. Dean had spent the better part of the day scouring the area for replacements with no success.

It was just after dark now, and Chuck was curled up cozy on the back seat, deep in sleep. Dean was shifting again in the front seat for the eighth time, try to get comfortable and trying to turn his brain off. He wanted to sleep when the sun was down and be ready to move at the crack of dawn.

Every rough turn of luck possible had befallen them on their journey. Their second day out, Chuck had been hit with a head cold and they had to hold up in an abandoned house. Chuck shivered out his fever and Dean paced the streets outside. Once they had gotten through that, they had run out of gasoline earlier than Dean had expected, and they wound up on foot for hours trying to fill their canisters before getting back to the jeep. And now they had the flat tires.

If Dean believed in an active God, he would lay down money betting that God was working to slow him down and keep him from finding Sam and Cas.

Finally he gave up trying to sleep and let his mind wander where it would, and everything he had been avoiding thinking about came rushing to the forefront. He worried about Sam. If Sam had broken free of Lucifer’s control did that mean Sam had destroyed him? Was that why the Croats had vanished from the area? Or had Sam just gotten free and evicted the archangel dickwad? Would Lucifer be looking for Sam now? Was Sam in danger?

Dean took in a weak breath and shifted once more against the seat. He had not been this restless in a long time.

Not since that push into Fargo two years ago for supplies. Croats had wiped out the bulk of their group and scattered the rest. The city had been swarming with them. He and Cas had found a place to hide, a cramped wine cellar under an old restaurant. They had been stuck down there for three days. It was smaller than a prison cell, and if they moved, they touched. An arm brushed against a chest. A hand caught on a shoulder. When they slept it was against the other for warmth. It had made Dean squirrely and agitated, and at first he had just thought it was because of the confined space, of being trapped.

But then Castiel had squeezed past him to take a leak at the far end corner where they had been pissing, and when he moved past Dean, Cas had slipped. They had collided, body pressed fully to body and Dean discovered he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe because he was over whelmed with want. Finally after so long of denying himself any closeness, especially with Castiel, to have Cas right there in his arms…. Dean’s brain had gone all hazy. He saw red. Their mouths were so close.

Cas had shuffled his foot, trying to pull back and in doing so he had dragged his thigh against Dean’s crotch. The sensation of feeling Cas body press against his cock had made Dean’s eyes roll back into his head. It had taken every ounce of willpower Dean had not to grab Cas and shove him against the wall, tear off his clothing and just take what he wanted.

The near loss of control had sent a jolt of panic flooding through Dean’s system and he had shoved Castiel away, more roughly than he should have. He refused to look at Cas for days after that. Bullying Cas with snide comments to drive him away.

Now that memory had a dual affect on Dean. He was nearly hard in his jeans, but his mouth tasted sour. The remembrance of Castiel close, how good he smelled, his breath on Dean’ lips, the feel of Castiel’s firm torso against Dean’s chest brought arousal coursing through his body. But knowing how Dean had treated Castiel afterwards, with derision and revulsion, seeing the hurt in Cas’ eyes as he did, that brought the bile from his stomach up into his mouth.

Dean rolled onto his side and squeezed his eyes closed. Somewhere Sam was out there, and it was Dean’s fault for failing to protect his brother and keep him safe. And somewhere Castiel was out there, the angel that wanted to watch over him, and Dean had failed him at every turn.

“Maybe I deserve all this bad luck.” Dean thought to himself, “Maybe I’m not worthy to have my brother or Cas in my life… the way I keep fucking things up. Maybe….”

Dean’s thought was cut off by a growing high-pitched buzzing sound suddenly coming from the radio in the jeep’s dashboard. Dean knew that sound, the sound of an angel trying to speak, and he slammed his hands over his ears. Bright blue white light filled the air around him. He sat up quickly and braced for the shattering of the glass around him.

It never came. Instead the sound began to fade and the light whisked up and out away from the car.

Hurriedly, Dean leapt out of the jeep and looked up. The light had coalesced into a twisting glowing wisp. It hovered over Dean and the jeep before twirling around and shooting off eastward at such great speed it was lost to Dean’s sight in a heartbeat.

Dean stood there a moment catching his breath, “An angel’s grace…..”

“Son of a bitch.”

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
>  http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
>  http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Music in this Chapter:
> 
> There's More To Life Than This - Bjork  
> http://eshtiel.tumblr.com/tagged/there's more to life that this  
> (there is a link within the fic to the music, this is just here in case the link breaks)

****

 

 

**Chapter 6**

 

**Somewhere along I57 in Central Illinois, just north of Mount Vernon. The following day.**

 

Once, just before they had reached Marion, Illinois, Tracy had to slow the car and pull over. She had to pause and catch her breath. Sam had just told her about Jess, and how he had lost her. About the fire and finding her on the ceiling, and how Dean had dragged him out of the building. About how it mirrored his mother Mary’s death and how it was the catalyst to send him back out on the road with his brother hunting again.

Listening to his voice break as he got through it, she couldn’t just sit passively and drive.

When the car halted and she threw it into park, she wordlessly reached over with both hands, grasping and pulling at him to come closer. She wrapped her arms protectively around his muscled shoulders as best as she could. She gripped him tight and hugged him hard. Sam tucked his face against her shoulder and just allowed her to hold him.

They stayed that way a long while until Tracy realized it was getting dark and suggested they should stop for the night and get some sleep. Sam had nodded but said nothing. They pulled away from each other slowly and then went about rearranging their gear so they could put the backseats to lay back flat and tuck into sleeping bags they had brought with them from their excursion through Baton Rouge.

They fell asleep that night facing each other, Tracy resting her hand carefully on one of Sam’s. He caught one of her small fingers lightly between his own and silently marveled the contrast between them. His hands so large and calloused. Her hands so tiny and soft.

When dawn came, they had eaten in silence, then kept watch on the horizon when they took turns urinating in some tall grass alongside the road. Soon they were back in the SUV heading deeper into Illinois and Sam began telling his story again.

Reaching the interchange around Mount Vernon where I64 and I57 met showed that I64 was just as impassable as I40 and route 63 had been. They continued northeast on along I57.

By the time they had reached Salem, Illinois, Sam had finished bringing Tracy up to the events that happened in Detroit. How Sam had said yes in his hubris, and how Dean had used the Four Horsemen’s rings to open the cage. He told her how he remembered fighting with Lucifer for control, and how he had been swept aside, little more than a buzzing gnat to the archangel. He and Dean had failed.

The whole time Tracy had quietly listened and when Sam said that after Detroit he could only recall snippets and pieces of memory, Tracy pulled the car over once more.

She sat quiet a long time, unsure of what to do or say now. Slowly she reached over and clasped his hand with hers.

After a time she spoke, “I’m never going to fully know what you and your brother went through Sam. But you have to know you tried your best, and your heart was in the right place most of the time.” He nodded and she continued, “One last thing.”

“What’s that?” Sam asked.

“We’re going to find your brother again Sam. Count on it.” She gave him a determined look, squeezed his hand a little and then let go. Then she turned her attention to the area around them.

The landscape was a bit hilly here, and the trees were thick along the road. Just ahead of them they could make out a tall sign signifying a gas station or rest stop of some kind up ahead and Tracy busied herself with getting out the binoculars.

They both opened their doors in tandem and climbed halfway out to scope the area. Tracy focused on the gas station with its convenience store, and Sam took a hard look at the tree line along the road.

She was about to give the all clear when something in the middle of the road itself caught her eye. She trained the binoculars on that and took a long look. Then she pulled them away with a frown before offering them to Sam across the top of the SUV.

“I think you need to take a look at this.” Her eyes never left the road ahead of them, “There is a body in the road but….it looks like someone just laid back and… I dunno….”

Puzzled, Sam brought the binoculars up and took a look. In the center of the road, a man was lying stretched out against the backpack on his back. As if he were using it as a pillow. From the angle they were at, all Sam could really make out was the dark mass of hair on the guy’s head, the backpack, one of his arms tucked across his belly, and the man’s legs and booted feet. It did look for the entire world like the guy had just stopped in the middle of the road and stretched out to take a nap.

“So?” Tracy queried.

“I don’t see any sign of an ambush and I don’t see any Croats around…”Sam paused, “Though we could get over there and find he’s had his guts ripped out…...”

“We still need to stop and check out that convenience store.” Tracy lifted one brow. “And we need gas to feed this beast we are riding around in.”

They both climbed back into the SUV. After some quick discussion it was decided that they would drive up slowly to the gas station and park at the edge of the parking area along the road. They’d watch to see if the man moved and then get out to investigate when they were closer.

Tracy brought the SUV up slowly, taking her time and nearly coasting. Sam kept his eyes riveted to the man’s body, alert for any movement. They got the SUV up to the edge of the road just before you would turn into the gas station area and stopped.

The man didn’t stir.

Sam turned in his seat to reach back and get two of the guns they had liberated from the pawnshop in Baton Rouge. He handed one to Tracy and quietly gave her a quick reminder on holding it, taking off the safety and reminded her to squeeze not pull the trigger. As quietly as possible they exited the SUV then, and without shutting the car doors, rounded slowly around to the body. They flanked it, Sam’s gun held up and ready. Tracy cradled hers with both hands and pointed it to the ground.

Sam drew in a deep breath and approached closer to the man lying there, coming around the body’s right side to get a full look.

The guy was wearing a blue cotton pull over lightweight shirt that was unbuttoned at the top. He wore faded somewhat grass stained jeans and worn scuffed black boots. His hands were clasped casually over his stomach and his face was relaxed into a placid serene smile under the scruffy growth of his dark beard.

Sam took a second look at the man’s face and he frowned. He leaned in closer….

Abruptly the man’s eyes winked open and his smile went broad and wide. His deep blue eyes shone with mirth and the man’s pupils were dilated wide.

Sam’s brows shot up and he took a step back, “Easy now….”

“Hey friend….” The man blinked up at Sam with nearly a giggle, then started to squint at Sam. Languidly the man began to sit up, his eyes still staring. “Wow you look just like my friend Sam….”

Suddenly the voice, the face, the man hidden by the worn clothing and the scruffy beard – his identity came at Sam all at once. Sam nearly dropped his gun, “CAS?!”

“Yea hey…. Wow, you sound like Sam too.” Cas just beamed at Sam, still perfectly happy to be seated on the ground.

“Cas?! Castiel?? Is that you?? What happened to you?!” Sam balked, stunned, looking over the former angel’s clothing a second and third time. The trench coat, the blue tie, Jimmy suit, all were gone.

Lazily Castiel turned and pointed back beyond the gas station, “Oh I found some perfect specimens of Strophariaceae Psilocybe back over there and…” Castiel paused when he saw Tracy. “Oh hello,” His smile warmed as his eyes did an appraising sweep of her face and body. “Aren’t you a cutie?”

Tracy traded a confused look with Sam, “Psilocybe are shrooms Sam. This guy is probably really high.…..wait” She paused and looked back at Cas. “….you called him Cas? As in, Castiel renegade Angel of the Lord??”

“Castiel, yes that’s me. I dropped my gun though, behind the trees. I didn’t like the way the light was moving across its surface. Too cold and hard. I like the light over here better….” Castiel relaxed back against his backpack again and smiled up into the hazy cloudy sky above them.

“This is the angel you said helped you?” Tracy put the safety on her gun but didn’t move closer.

“Pulled Dean’s sorry freckled assbutt out of hell, indeed I did.” Castiel sighed and closed his eyes, “Ungrateful stubborn ridiculous infuriating son of a b….”

“Cas….” Sam said softly as he knelt down beside the former angel, now prone and high as a kite lying in the middle of a highway turn off. “What happened to you? Where is Dean?”

Castiel flicked his eyes open and gave Sam rough look, one Sam was familiar with when the angel had been irritated long ago and told him not to ask stupid questions.

“Fuck Dean. He can kiss my lily white bare human ass….Oh no wait. Kissing would imply that Dean had some sort of human emotional response. Ha! As if.” Castiel growled. “Now stop harshing my buzz Sam.”

Before Sam could respond however, Castiel abruptly sat up, his eyes going wide as if he was coming back to himself and reality. His hands went instantly to brace against the pavement and he swallowed hard. “Wait… Sam?! SAM??!”

Castiel scrambled to his feet ungracefully leaving his backpack on the ground. His quickly panicking eyes never left Sam’s face, “SAM… how are you here?! Where is Lucifer?!”

“Hold on, everything is okay…. Lucifer is gone….” Sam stood slowly and tucked his gun away, putting his hands up in surrender.

Castiel winced, and squeezed his eyes into tight slits. He reached down with nearly angelic quickness to yank his angel blade free from where it was strapped to his leg. “How can I be sure??”

“The tests.” Tracy offered. “If there is a way to test me to make sure I’m not a demon or a shifter or a ruggie-roo…..”

“Rougarou…” Sam corrected gently.

“Right… that….well we can do the tests on each other. Right?” Tracy gave a small shrug. “If we are all humans, it’ll be obvious.”

Castiel hefted his angle blade in his hand, his body still held in a defensive fighting stance. “Yea. All human now.” The words came out bitterly.

Sam held up his hands in surrender, and slowly turned around. He placed his hands on the back of his head and then slowly got back down on his knees. “Cas, cut me with your angel blade… even Lucifer, if he were hiding inside me, his grace would still leak out if cut with an angel blade.”

Castiel shivered a little, still feeling the effects of the hallucinogenic mushrooms. He took in a deep quick gulp of air and moved closer to Sam. He brought the blade carefully across the skin of Sam’s forearm, cutting into the flesh. Blood trickled out and Sam winced, his jaw line going hard from the pain.

When nothing else happened, Castiel let his arm holding the blade fall to his side. He let out a shaky exhale and just stood there blinking.

Sam turned and carefully brought his arms down. Then he stood again, keeping his eyes on Castiel the entire time. That innocent puzzled look had come over Castiel’s face, where his eyes were slightly frowned and his mouth was pursed open just the smallest amount. His blue eyes tracked Sam’s face as Sam came to stand in front of him.

“Sam.” Castiel said, and it sounded as if he would start to cry.

Sam smiled a little, seeing more of the old Castiel he knew in the former angel’s expression, “Hey Cas.”

Castiel dropped the angel blade and it clattered against the pavement. He closed the distance between the two of them and threw his arms around Sam, crushing Sam in a fierce hug. “Sam!”

Sam gave off a small surprised chuckle, then returned the embrace. Over Cas’s shoulder, Sam threw Tracy and awkward look.

She mouthed the words, ‘Angel of the Lord? Really??’ with an amused look on her face.

Cas pulled away and took a step or two back, “Man I hope when I come down this isn’t all just some bizarre trip…..”

“Cas, where is Dean?” Sam’s brows knit up, becoming concerned now. Human Castiel roaming the rural areas of Illinois, high on mushrooms couldn’t be a good sign.

The delighted look on Castiel’s face soured. “Probably back at Camp Chitaqua with Bobby and Chuck and the rest.”

The puzzled look on Sam’s face deepened, new questions forming on his lips. Tracy came to his side then cleared her throat.

“Listen, this conversation… you both sorting out the last five years or whatever… would probably be best had someplace that isn’t the middle of a turn off road in front of an abandoned gas station.” She glanced from Sam to Castiel and shyly looked away again, “Can we get gas and supplies and get back on the road first?”

Sam smiled at her and slipped his hand against her back as he answered in the affirmative. Castiel tracked the movement of Sam’s hand and watched it linger against her. Sam said, “Yea, you think we can make it to Effingham before dark?”

“Maybe find a motel there to hold up in?” She replied.

Sam nodded and then looked at Cas, “You’re coming with us right?”

Cas took a long look at Sam and then finally said, “Of course.”

 

\----------------------------------------------

 

Tracy linked her Walkman to the car stereo and played music as they went, heading for Effingham. At the moment a young woman’s voice crooned out [‘There’s more to life than this….’](http://eshtiel.tumblr.com/tagged/there%27s%20more%20to%20life%20than%20this), but the beat was making Sam tap his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove.

They had loaded up with as much food as there was left at the gas station that wasn’t rotting, and had managed to not only fill the SUV’s tank, but four other gas containers as well once Sam got one of the pumps working. Surprisingly the gas station had electricity courtesy of solar panels covering its roof.

Castiel sat in the back seat for a long time just watching Sam and Tracy in equal measure as if he was cataloguing information about each of them. Occasionally Sam would glance back, curious at this person Castiel had become, and so different from the angel he remembered from the past. Occasionally their eyes would meet in the rear view mirror; Castiel’s stare weary and empty while Sam’s grew with concern.

Tracy kept her eyes primarily on the land around them. When it began to get dark and the edges of Effingham loomed in sight, she kept her eyes on the look out for someplace to sleep for the night.

Sam pulled off the highway using one of the exits and they found a Quality Inn close by. It was one of those motels with a covered walkway along the outside of the building, but had stairs in a breezeway between the two wings of the building. The place was mostly sacked, but two rooms on the top floor in the back were still locked and untouched. It didn’t take Sam long to wrangle one of them open, but the other’s lock was broken. Inside the room held two queen sized beds and they decided to make due.

Out of curiosity Tracy tried the water in the bathroom faucet and to her surprise it worked. She let it run for a while, clearing the pipes and eventually the water ran clear and cold. Excited she came back into the main part of the motel room to let Sam know they would have an actual flushing toilet to use. She pulled up short however when she saw he and Castiel seated on either side of the small table in the room, their faces grim. Castiel’s high from the shrooms was faded off.

“Okay so how about I secure things down at the car and give you guys a few minutes….We’ll need the sleeping bags anyway…” Tracy gave them that simple smile of hers as she spoke.

“Tracy wait, whatever we have to say you can be here. I don’t mind.” Sam explained.

Tracy watched an uncomfortable look shift across Castiel’s face, “Yea but Castiel might not. We just met and he doesn’t know me…. I’ll just be downstairs.“ Now she gave Castiel a kind understanding smile, then nodded to Sam and walked out the door.

After a moment Castiel glanced over his shoulder out of the motel room window, following Tracy with his eyes as she made her way along the outside walk. “How did you get free from Lucifer?”

“Tracy found me….” Sam started with a small smile, “She found me tied up, drugged out and under heavy demon guard. She’s smart and resourceful, and pulled me out of there….” Sam leveled a finger at Cas, “And before you say anything, she’s no demon and she’s no spy. She’s just…..”

“A godsend?” Castiel smirked, almost mocking.

Sam sat up straighter in his seat, “Maybe. I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth Cas. She got me free, got me away. He paused, “I don’t know why Lucifer isn’t inside me anymore. If he left on his own I have no idea why. And if he did, I’m also presuming that Lucifer hasn’t come back looking for me yet.” Sam ran one hand across his chest. “One of the first things he did was scrub those Enochian symbols off my ribs that you had etched there. As a matter of ballsy pride as I remember. Whining about ‘other angel’s dirty little finger prints’…..” Sam rolled his eyes.

“So yea. I just got handed a lot of really amazing dumb luck. I don’t know why or how and for now, I’m thinking it might be wise not to worry about it too much.” Sam leaned forward, placing his arms on the table and clasping his hands together. “Cas… what happened to you? To Dean… after…..”

Castiel frowned and leaned back in his seat, “After Detroit… Dean wasn’t the same, of course. His claim that he didn’t understand why you said yes became his mantra and his sole focus was bent on trying to find a way to destroy Lucifer….”

Sam closed his eyes and took in a steadying breath.

“After Lucifer destroyed Michael…. along with Adam I suspect, he laid waste to most of the Midwest, letting the increasing numbers of Croatoan victims run out of control to finish the job.” Castiel let one hand rest casually on the table, but his thumb gave a slight twitch as he spoke. “He cut off Earth and Heaven, and what little remaining grace I had slowly burned off… dissipated. Left me human.” Cas smirked out a wry chuckle, “Useless.”

Sam raised one brow at that, but Cas kept going and shifted the topic slightly, “Dean’s whole world became gathering survivors then, working at stamping out the Croats where we could find them.” Cas paused so this next piece would sink in, “Torturing and interrogating demons when we caught them. Trying to find a way to slay Lucifer.”

Sam let out a pained sigh, “Shit Cas…. And you were at his side this whole time weren’t you?”

Castiel gave a noncommittal shrug in answer and looked away.

“But Cas, you and Dean…. You were close. You were…..” Sam said gently.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Sam.” Castiel wouldn’t look at him, kept his eyes away on the lamp or one of the beds or at the floor.

“Come on Cas, I remember how you two looked at each other. Like he was your sun and your were his moon.” Sam let a small smile play out over his lips, “You came when he called. Defied the other angels because of him….”

Castiel stood up then, swiftly and pressed his hands against his thighs, quickly changing the subject of there conversation. “You know we didn’t have any more Croats back in Iowa and I didn’t see a single one until I crossed over into Illinois. We shouldn’t leave your friend alone for too long….”

“Don’t change the subject Cas. Tracy can handle herself on her own. She managed to take care of herself just fine before she found me.” Sam didn’t budge. “Why are you out here alone Cas? What happened between you and Dean?”

“Look…. I am much too sober to be having this conversation, and…” Cas gave a dry humorless chuckle, “…haven’t gotten fucked in days and days so…let’s just drop it okay?” His voice ended on a caustic note and Sam’s eyes went wide.

“You and your friend wouldn’t be up for a threesome tonight would you….?” Castiel turned around, his face was a feigned smile trying to hide the bitter pain creeping up in his eyes.

Sam stood up with a retort on his lips about to really dig into Castiel when they heard Tracy holler at them to come outside.

Instantly both Sam and Castiel’s demeanor shifted. They were out of the door in a second. On the motel balcony walkway they looked down to the parking lot but saw nothing. Then Tracy whistled and the sound came from above them. They leaned over the railing a bit to look up towards the roof.

She was at the edge, bending over a little to see them. Her hands white knuckled on her knees and she spoke quickly, “I’m saying this once because I am terrified of heights and being this close to the edge is making my legs feel like noodles…. But you guys gotta get up here and see this.” She vanished away from the edge and neither man could see her anymore.

A delighted smile spread over Castiel’s face, “On the roof. Kinky. I like it.”

Sam threw a sour look at Castiel, “Cut it out Cas.” Then brushed past to find the way onto the roof.

Moments later the three of them were on the roof of the motel and Tracy passed the binoculars to Sam.

“Tell me what your elf eyes see Sam….” Tracy smiled a little and watched has he tossed her an easy grin back.

He took the binoculars from her and quipped, “Man you are as bad as Dean with those crazy movie references…” but then his smile died when he saw Castiel looking at him at the mention of Dean’s name. Castiel’s look was humorless and cold. Sam shrugged it off, brought the binoculars up and scanned the area where Tracy was pointing.

“I see Croats… wow about a hundred of them scattered around on the other side of the highway. They’re all on the move….” Sam paused, “In the same direction.”

“They are all heading northeast. That’s not the usual behavioral pattern for the wild Croatoan is it?” Tracy smirked. “Any idea where they might be going?”

“No…. how about you Cas?” Sam asked still watching.

“No idea.” Castiel pretended to sound bored. “And if they aren’t headed this way, I’m going back down to the room. I’m going to find some liquor and I’m going to drink it. Hopefully then I’ll pass out.” He leaned in close to Tracy, but said his next words loud enough for Sam to hear, “If I’m not passed out, feel free to climb in bed with me. I won’t mind.” He flashed a wide smile at her, all teeth and gums. Then he turned and left.

Sam ignored it all and kept tracking the Croats. Finally Tracy spoke up.

“He’s pretty broken now isn’t he?” Her voice was soft and compassionate with no hint of sarcasm to it. “He’s nothing like you described to me.”

Sam sighed and handed the binoculars back to her, turning to face her. “I think he was pretty in love with my brother,….probably still is in love with Dean.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair, “…and I think when I lost my fight with Lucifer it was too much for Dean to handle. Knowing my brother he took it out on Cas.” Sam shook his head. “Knowing Cas, he let him. I think they are both probably equally as messed up and probably equally to blame for it.”

“Did Dean love him back?” Tracy looked up at Sam, her voice still soft.

Sam took a moment and thought about that. Then quietly he said, “Yea. I think he did. Though I doubt he realized it. As for now, who knows?”

She looked down at the binoculars in her hands and turned them over once, then twice. “You know, I really believe that if you love someone…. Really love them… you can go through bad patches and make it out the other side to heal.”

“Love conquers all?” Sam smiled at her.

“Maybe?” She looked back up at him, “That might be a silly or naïve view but….”

Sam quirked an eyebrow at her, his eyes shining.

“If love doesn’t come out on top in the end, what the heck are we saving the world for? So we can play shuffle board?” She spoke plainly.

“What if you love shuffleboard?” Sam teased, smiling bigger.

Tracy took in a deep breath still looking up at him, “Come down here.” She whispered.

Sam faked a ‘what?’ face at first but then complied. He bent down to bring their faces closer together. Tracy reached up and met him half way, cupping her hands to his face in mimic of the way he had held her the other day, after he had put her through the demon circle tests.

“I’m going to kiss you now Sam Winchester. Is that okay?” She whispered again. Her eyes all dark and sweet, focused on his lips now.

“Yes. That’s more tha…”

She cut him off mid sentence by pressing her lips firm and warm against his, and she let it linger. They closed their eyes and leaned in, Sam catching her shoulders gently in his hands. It was lovely and tender, and when they finally they broke apart softly they were all smiles.

“I’m going to need to invest in high heels and a step ladder if we are going to keep doing this.” She whispered playfully.

“I think I would willingly get on my knees so you don’t have to.” Sam replied.

“Oh wow….”A furious blush rushed across her cheeks with a bright smile to go with it. “….next time warn a girl before you make her swoon like that.”

Sam just smiled bigger and leaned in for another kiss. Then he carefully moved down onto his knees so she was the one slightly taller now, bending her head just a bit to meet the next kiss and the next…. And the next.

They stayed up there a while longer, then made their way back to the motel room. When they entered it was dark and Castiel was bundled up, burrowed into the blankets on one bed sound asleep. No evidence of his desired drinking binge was found. He had gone to bed sober.

Quietly Sam tugged Tracy over to the other bed. They took off their shoes but remained dressed and climbed in under the covers. Sam wrapped her up in his arms, kissed the top of her head and then together they drifted off to sleep.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *It doesn't say what the music is that Tracy has on the Walkman in the Chapter, but it's this:
> 
> Joga - Bjork  
> http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/85890357373/ashsaywha-bjork-joga-all-that-no-one-sees-you

****

 

 

**Chapter 7**

**The Quality Inn Motel, Effingham, Illinois. The next morning:**

 

Tracy stirred and woke, surrounded by warmth. Surrounded by Sam. He was resting on his side now, one arm acting as her pillow, the other curled around to her back. His fingers were threaded into her hair, cradling and cupping her crown. Her hands were bunched into his shirt and her forehead was nested under his chin against his throat.

She took in a slow breath and drank in the scent of him. He smelled like flannel and gun oil and somehow what she thought sunshine smelled like. He was still out, his breathing deep and slow, his body heavy with relaxation.

Slowly she became aware that Castiel was awake in the room, but still and silent. Tracy ducked her head carefully out from under Sam’s chin and peeked up, over her shoulder to find Cas seated at the small motel table. He was watching them, a strange open vigilance on his face. When he saw her look at him, he turned his head away and folded his hands over his stomach. Elbows resting casually on the chair’s arm rests.

Carefully Tracy began to untangle Sam’s hand from her hair and nudge under his arm. She left him a soft kiss to his cheek, then wiggled out from under the covers and re-tucked them around him.

Castiel stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it quietly, left it open after he passed through and went to stand against the rail along the outside walkway.

Tracy followed and pulled the door closed most of the way. Then she hung back and took a moment to just looked at Castiel.

Sam had described Cas as being slight, small, swimming in an over sized trench coat too big for his frame. But this man standing in front of her was built like a triathlete. Lean muscle, solid shoulders, and he was imposing in a way. Tracy supposed though, as tall and broad as Sam was, most men probably felt smaller to him in comparison.

“You gonna just stare at me all day or what?” Cas smirked out, looking at her over his shoulder.

Tracy could still see some of the angel left in Castiel’s eyes. No one’s eyes could ever be that blue. She felt her mouth go a little dry as she spoke, “Not every day I meet a former angel. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She took in a nervous breath and came to stand next to him, looking out over the parking lot below them. “You’re kind of terrifying when you aren’t high or being a… you know.”

Cas chuckled low and leaned down to mouth into her ear, “A sex pot?”

She held still and didn’t react, keeping her eyes on the SUV parked below.

He didn’t move either, “Aren’t you going to ask me why I was watching you and Sam sleep?”

“No.” Tracy just rested her hands on the rail, “Sam told me its what you used to do.”

Cas leaned closer, letting his shoulder press against hers, “When did he tell you that?”

She stepped back and met his eyes, her dark ones going determined. “When he told me about all the other stuff. About Azazel, the colt, and Ruby. About the demon blood. About letting Lucifer out of the cage…. When he told me you had pulled Dean up from hell. When he told me how you traveled together sometimes, helped people.”

“Oh yes, when I could smite things. When I could fly across the globe with a flick of my grace….” Cas said bitterly and gestured his arm out wide, sweeping in the air over the rail.

Tracy interrupted him, “And when he told me what an amazing friend you were, how you became part of his family.”

Castiel stopped and looked at her.

She looked away from him, back to the motel room. “He’s going to need you when he finds Dean. If Lucifer comes back…..” And when she turned her dark eyes back on Cas, they were pleading, “Sam is going to need you maybe more than he ever did before.”

Castiel’s arms hung limp at his sides now. “But what I can I do?”

“You can do the same as me. Just be there for him. It doesn’t take super powers to be a good friend now does it?” She gave a little weak shrug, then turned and walked away, heading for the stairs.

Castiel remained there, his jaw held shut but his eyes shifting from their previous hard cast to something softer. He let her words rumble around inside his head. What had he teased Sam about last night? That she was a godsend? Something inside Cas pulled at him, and echo of something old, deep in the hollows of his heart. Since leaving Camp Chitaqua he had just been running as far as he could, running away from Dean, away from the rejection, the humiliation and the hurt. And where had he run? Right into Sam and this strange woman.

Time and again he had felt that his Father had guided him, saved him, brought him back to Dean’s side over and over again. And now here, having run far afield where did he find himself? Right in Sam’s path, almost literally. Right with the one person Dean would always gravitate towards.

For a blinding moment Castiel wanted to laugh out hysterically at the absurdity of his life. Instead he curbed the feeling and turned to grip the rail on the walkway.

Below him in the parking lot, Tracy was at the SUV. The doors on the driver’s side were all open and she was pulling the packaged pastries they had taken from the gas station yesterday out of one of their bags. [She was nodding her head to some music that was being piped through her headphones from her Walkman and focused on what she was doing.](http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/85890357373/ashsaywha-bjork-joga-all-that-no-one-sees-you)

Seeing the food she was gathering up for the three of them made Castiel’s stomach rumble with hunger.

Castiel pushed away from the rail and headed to the stairs. He had just rounded the corner at the bottom, heading for the SUV when he saw movement at the edges of the parking lot.

A straggling band of seven Croats, roaming in from the south and heading northeast, right across the motel parking lot.

So far they hadn’t taken notice of the SUV or Tracy. Castiel kept his movements minimal, walking with a quick cadence but not running. When he and Tracy were both on the same side of the SUV, hidden from the Croats, Cas paused to do two things. First was to reach down and slip his angel blade into his hand. The second was to tap Tracy on the shoulder, and gesture her to be silent and still.

Then he directed her attention to the Croats. If they both remained where they were, and made no noise, the group of Croats would move past without noticing them. They were hidden behind the SUV. Tracy clicked off her Walkman but didn’t pull the headphones away from her ears yet. Instead her attention had flicked down to the angel blade in Castiel’s hands once before she turned slowly in the direction of the Croats. They were on the passenger side of the car, while she and Cas were on the driver’s side. Tracy sent up an inner hallelujah that they parked without regard to the painted parking guidelines, otherwise they would have been totally exposed. She felt movement from Cas and she glanced over.

He was looking up at the motel balcony above. Sam was there, silent and crouched down. Neither Cas nor Tracy knew when Sam had woken, or come out, but he had seen the Croats. He and Cas were now doing some sort of silent signaling or communication with slight gestures of their hands.

And then both of them froze completely still.

A high-pitched buzzing whine came over through Tracy’s headphones and she had to yank them off of her head. But the sound didn’t stop. Instead it grew louder, hurting her ears. The last time she had heard that noise was coming from the riverboat Sam had been on. The night the light had burst out of the riverboat’s windows. She knew now that light and that noise had probably been Lucifer leaving Sam. She pressed her hands against her head to cover her ears and looked up at Sam in fear.

His eyes were wide and frightened too, and his hands were shoved hard against his ears as well. He was half lying down, wincing. He and Tracy both looked at Castiel who was gaping with shock at the inside of the SUV.

The sound was coming from the car’s radio.

On the other side of the SUV, the Croats had stopped and were falling to their knees, crying out in pain. Their fingers were clawing at their skulls.

The car began to rumble, as did the motel. As the sound grew in pitch the widows around the SUV began to crack and shatter. Castiel grabbed Tracy and tugged her down, shielding her with his body as they got on the ground. A second later there was a rupturing sound and all the windows of the motel burst and broke. Glass flung into the air.

Tracy could feel Cas trembling slightly. His head was up and he was saying something, yelling something, but she couldn’t make it out over the piercing whistle like noise.

Something bright and white with hues of blue at its edges floated just beyond the corners of Tracy’s vision. She felt her skin crackle, as if she was near a live electrical wire and she tensed, suddenly fearful she would be electrocuted. And just when she was certain she couldn’t hold it in anymore, that she needed to start screaming and just not stop, the sound ceased.

Instead there was a voice in her head, soft and tender like the whisper of a child. It soothed her and made her feel warm.

“Let me help you and Sam. I am Ramiel, Thunder of God.” It whispered. “Let me in Tracy. Let me in. Be my vessel.” It cooed gently and Tracy felt like she was floating, “I can give you the power to drive off the Croats. To heal Castiel’s heart. To keep Sam safe, just as Castiel did for Dean….”

“Say yes….” It called over and over and over again. ‘I am Ramiel, let me in. Say yes.”

It felt good. It felt right. If she let the angel in, she could smite the Croats. She could protect Sam. She could….

She stopped. Held still. What did Sam say about Jimmy Novak, the man Castiel’s vessel had been? What had he said to Sam and Dean? Sam just told her this story two days ago.

“Shhh no…don’t think about that. Please, say yes, let me in. Let me save you and Castiel and Sam….” Ramiel’s voice still came soft, sweet, twinkling.

Two days ago. Two days ago…. Two days…..a comet. Chained to a comet.

“That was Castiel, he didn’t know how to exist with a vessel. I will be different. I am Ramiel, I am the Mercy of God. I am the Compassion of God.” Ramiel soothed. “Say yes. Let me in.”

“R…Ramiel….”Tracy spoke out softly, “Thunder of God.”

Distantly Tracy could hear shouting. A gunshot. Crunching glass. Her vision was white, cloudy, brilliant but not blinding. There was a form, a shape moving in the white. Wings fluttering. A warm hand was caressing her cheek. In her mind’s eye she felt more than saw a garden filled with roses. Other angels.

“Let me in little lamb. Let me help you. Protect Sam. Keep him safe from Lucifer.” Ramiel’s voice was close now. Vibrating with energy, humming with…Grace.

Again there was shouting, someone calling her name, screaming it. It wasn’t the angel, wasn’t Ramiel. Wasn’t Ramiel’s grace.

“Sam.”

“Let me in Tracy Louise Copeland….” Ramiel said sweetly. “Say yes.”

Sam’s voice came in broken waves, calling Tracy’s name. The whiteness fluttered again and she could feel wings, real, soft as silk, brushing against her.

“Say yes”

“Sam….”Tracy twisted in the whiteness. Two Days Ago. Sam. Two Days Ago. Sam.

Chained to a comet.

“No….NO!” Tracy let it burst out of her. “NO! I won’t. I won’t…..”

In a flash the high-pitched sound was there again, and the whiteness was gone. Reality came crashing back around Tracy and with it, pain. Glass bit into her leg and hip. Her head throbbed and small cuts stung anywhere her skin was exposed. The sound receded and that pricking electrical sensation fled. Another gunshot rang out somewhere nearby, but she could feel someone’s hands gripping tight to her shoulders.

Sam was trying to pull her to him, his hands grappled hard to her. In another moment he had clamped her against his chest and smothered her close in his arms. A heartbeat later he was on his feet and carrying her.

Two more gunshots rang out in quick succession.

Then silence.

Tracy opened her eyes and looked at Sam, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Sam…..?”

He looked concerned, his eyes tracking the area still. Castiel was at his shoulder now, a Glock in one hand and the gun Tracy had carried yesterday in the other.

“We can’t stay here.” Castiel said and they were moving.

Tracy watched over Sam’s shoulder as the metal husk that used to be the SUV was left smoking in the parking lot. Littered around it were the bodies of the Croats.

Then darkness took her and she passed out.

 

 

 

 ---------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 **Outside of Peoria, Illinois, near Morton. The same morning**.

 

Dean stood leaning over the hood of the car, two maps spread out before him. Chuck leaned on the door of the car nearby eating an apple and sipping on a canteen of water.

They had abandoned the jeep back in a town called Newton, swapped it for the vehicle they were using now. It was a black 1982 Chevy Camaro. It wasn’t the Impala, Dean had brokenly thought, but it was at least fast. They had made good time, finally. Originally Dean had planned on cutting south and taking the 55 to St. Louis to track down Castiel, but Chuck had been woken with another vision and they had to pull over.

“Are you sure about this?” Dean scoured over the maps.

“Yes. I’m sure. I saw it clear as day.” Chuck took another swallow of his water then said, “Cas and Sam are together now. In Effingham. With some woman….I saw them standing on the roof of a motel watching Croats.” Chuck’s shoulders scrunched up a little and he waved his hand about, “And Sam and the woman totally smooched like high school kids after that.”

Dean looked over at Chuck a moment, his brows raised. “She better not be another Ruby or so help me….”

Chuck simply shrugged his ignorance and Dean went back to looking over the maps.

“Fuck! What is wrong with Illinois. Why isn’t there a straight freakin’ road from Peoria to Effingham?!” Dean growled out. “We’ll have to cut through on a lesser road and go through Decatur…”

“No I wouldn’t go through Decatur. It was bad even before the apocalypse. No telling what’s there now…” Chuck rolled his eyes and stretched, taking a step away from the car.

“Go through Bloomington and…Normal??? Who the hell names a city ‘Normal’??” Dean made a disgusted face. “Why not go ahead and name it ‘Boring’ or ‘Dull’ and be done with it.” He sort of smirked but it still held grimness to it, “Or how about ‘Bland, Illinois’?”

Chuck answered with a smile at first and then his smile faded. His eyes rolled back into his head and he started to pitch forward in a fall. Dean grabbed the shoulder of Chuck’s jacket and caught him, keeping the prophet from hitting the ground. Dean eased Chuck down, and with uncharacteristic tenderness, cradled Chuck’s head in his hands. Chuck twitched and shivered, punctuated by several shallow gasps.

Dean bowed his head and waited. “Shit Chuck, if I had known these fucked you up so badly before I would have tried to be a little less of a dick to you….”

Chuck didn’t hear him however. Chuck was miles away, his mind’s eye circling over a Quality Inn in Effingham, watching Castiel systematically shoot down Croats in the motel parking lot. He could see Sam scrambling down a stairwell and flying out into that same parking lot. And the woman that Chuck didn’t know? She was hovering and inch off the ground near the blasted out hull of an SUV, awash in a swirling column of golden light.

Then the images winked and changed. Chuck was now standing in a garden surrounded by hundreds of rose bushes, the spring sky clear and bright overhead. Slowly Chuck turned around. There he found a pulsing twisting ball of angel graces, twenty of them, knotted around each other as if seeking solace and communion. They were angels without vessels, trapped here on Earth, severed from Heaven.

Chuck took a step back and bumped into someone. He turned around again.

He couldn’t make out the face. A blinding shimmer of light obstructed Chuck’s view but he could see that the person was wearing a crisp white suit. Bright translucent shimmering wings folded up and away from behind their body. A voice radiated out of the brilliant light and it reverberated through the air. “Hi Chuck. Welcome to the Quad.”

Chuck choked out, “Lucifer….”

And then he was alongside the road with Dean again, rolling away from Dean, and clawing at the ground as the apple he had just eaten came spewing up from his stomach.

“Dean!” Chuck spit out the last of the vomit from his mouth and staggered to his feet. He reached out and fisted a hold on Dean’s jacket. His eyes were panicked and terrified.

Dean frowned and didn’t hide the worry crawling in his eyes. “What…what did you see??”

Chuck gasped, “Lucifer!”

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Like A Prayer - Madonna  
> http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/tagged/like%20a%20prayer

****

 

 

**Chapter 8**

 

**Decatur, IL. Twenty minutes later.**

The sweat oozed in between Dean’s fingers as he white knuckle gripped the steering wheel. He was pushing the Camaro hard, careening down county road 121 at a reckless speed. The road was a two-lane backwater highway with railroad tracks sitting parallel to it and more potholes than Dean thought he’d ever seen. It was still passable and even with the jerking swerves he was making, he was able to keep his speed. Empty flat fallow fields stretched away to his left and his right as far as the eye could see.

As he saw the exchange for the highway looming up ahead, he realized his jaw was trembling. He had been clenching his teeth hard together since he had stuffed a hysterical Chuck back into the car and it was starting to take it’s toll on his body.

He growled and willed himself to ignore it, to focus on driving, to get to Sam.

Beside him Chuck was silent, his red-rimmed watery eyes were scoring over the map in his hands. Dean knew Chuck would yell out where and when to turn. They were taking the shortest possible route as fast as possible to get to Effingham.

Dean didn’t need to hear details from Chuck of what that last vision had been. Chuck had tried to tell him, but Dean had shut him down, needing to use all his focus on driving. But the closer to Decatur they got, the more it ate at Dean to know.

Finally after they had swung south on I72, skirting the burned out shell of the city, Dean managed to unhinge his clamped jaw and speak.

“Tell me what you saw Chuck.” Dean fought hard to keep his voice on an even keel. If he let the fear make its way out in sound, Dean wasn’t sure he would stop it from ripping out into a scream.

Chuck drew in a deep breath and gave Dean what he needed to hear most whether he wanted to hear it or not, “Sam is safe…. For now. There was some kind of fight going on at their motel… I saw Croats. I saw Castiel wasting them with gunfire….”

Dean felt his pulse pick up hearing that and he caught his lip before it quivered.

“I saw Sam, rushing in to help. I saw that woman, surrounded by what could have been an angel thing….” Chuck gestured, but his eyes stayed on the map before him, “Like it was lifting her or taking her….”

“Attacking?!” Dean risked a look at Chuck, then snapped his eyes back to the road.

“No, like….maybe it was taking her as a vessel.” Chuck explained.

“Was it Lucifer?!” Dean nearly choked on the bile that was churning up in his gut.

“No….I saw him someplace else.” Chuck paused, still looking at the map. “And I think I know where….”

“Details Chuck. I need big precise details!” Dean barked.

“He was in another vessel… not Sam though. He saw me looking at him…”Chuck shivered, “That was disconcerting.”

“Chuck!” Dean snarled.

“He said to me ‘Welcome to the Quad’….”Chuck, not fazed at the moment by Dean’s outbursts, was tracking his finger across the map.

“What does that mean?!?” Dean slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel.

“A ‘Quad’ usually refers to an open grassy area within a school campus…. Like a college or a university….. Illinois has several and a couple of them are nearby. It would also be ample space to sprout up rose bushes in that number.” Chuck rambled, not caring to clarify any of this at the moment and tapped the map with his finger. “But without more info I’m not sure I could say which campus. Could be in Chicago, Carbondale…any number of places.”

“Just peachy!!” Dean gripped the steering wheel and plowed the car in a near fishtail as he turned off the road they were currently on and got back onto county road 121 again. They were around Decatur and barreling towards Effingham once more.

Dean dragged in shaky breath, “…get some rest Chuck. We’ll sort this out when we get to Effingham…. Get to Sam, get to Cas. Then we can all hunt that son of a bitch down.”

Chuck side-eyed Dean now, but said nothing. Instead he bunched his jacket up between his head and the car window. He shuffled down and half closed his eyes. He knew it was useless to tell Dean to calm down, to slow down, to take a breath.

Dean would never stop until Sam and Cas were at his side again.

 

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

 

 **Effingham, IL. Same time** :

 

Tracy reached consciousness lying in the comfort of satin cushions and pillows. They were pushed tightly against her arms and sides and it took her a moment to register exactly where she was stretched out. Above her, a lid lined in similar fabric and ruffles was propped open. It was all colored in this neutral off white cream tone. She blinked wide and for a split second her heart stopped in fear.

She was lying inside an open coffin.

She jerked to sit up and her arm caught against one of the side cushions, jostling the coffin roughly in her haste. It wobbled and the lid came crashing down, nearly smacking her in the head. She gave off a yelp as the lid slammed closed and she was plunged into complete darkness. She took in a shaky breath and pushed to open the lid.

It wouldn’t budge.

Panic edged in around the fringes of her mind and she let out a half shocked gasp. Her heart sped up and her breath went short. Furiously she shoved at the lid trying to force it open. She punched and pounded her fists against it while she could feel the coffin continuously wobbling on whatever surface it was sitting on.

“SAM!” She called out, “SAM???.....SAM!!!” The last was rife with fear.

She huffed and drew her knees up as best as she could, to try to brace them against the lid to shove it open. She was wincing at the small space and wedging her knees up when the lid flew open and light poured in.

Sam was there, hurriedly bending over to reach for her. Sam’s arms came around her and drew her in close. “God Trace…I’m so sorry…. I didn’t think this would close on you…”

She gripped tight to his broad shoulders and struggled to calm her panicked breathing, “Get me outta this….out….out now…please….”

He did, lifting her easily up against him, hugging her close. He buried his face into her hair and held her tight. “So worried. You fainted or something and we…”

“I did NOT faint,” She protested, fighting back the tears that were pushing their way close to the surface. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, “What happened?”

Carefully Sam set her down to stand on her own feet, but still held onto her, apprehensive of her being steady on her legs. “I’m not sure. Cas and I were waiting for you to wake up. I think he has an idea but wanted to hear your side of things first.” Sam tucked one hand’s fingers into her hair up under the back of her neck and leaned in to plant a kiss at her temple. “You were scraped up, some cuts from flying glass. I bandaged you up, just be careful not to pull open the wounds.”

She nodded and looked down. One arm was covered in small band-aids scattered from her wrist to her upper arm. Her sweater was missing, and she was wearing only her tank top and bra on her upper half. She began to blush deeply when she saw the bandage wrapped tight around her thigh, imagining Sam’s large hands tenderly seeing to the deeper cuts there was throwing a whole different type of warmth into her body. She ducked her head shyly as color dusted her cheeks.

“Thanks. You weren’t hurt?” She glanced at him, then looked away quickly when she saw his eyes on her face.

“Few scrapes. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” One of his hands was smoothing against the skin of her other arm in slow languid strokes. “Cas and I found this place, a funeral home, a few blocks from the motel…. The coffins were the only place I could put you down…other than the embalming table and that….” He made a sour face and she broke out into a soft laugh.

“Yea…..no….I would screamed my head off if I had woken up there.” She smiled a little, and leaned into his touch.

Sam pressed his forehead gently against Tracy’s, “I’m glad you’re okay….I was… seriously worried there a while.”

Tracy took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I remember everything but a lot of it isn’t making an sense to me, you know?” She side-eyed the coffin she had been in and took note of the rickety metal-wheeled cart it was sitting on. Mentally she filed that away as ‘why the darn thing was so wobbly’ before looking back at Sam.

“Let’s go find Cas… I am pretty sure I know what was going on, but it would be nice to get his expert opinion.” Sam stood straight and slid his hands out of her hair, but his hand on her arm merely went to rest on her shoulder and stayed there. “He’s in the little chapel here. While you were out cold, he went back to the motel and managed to retrieve all the stuff we left in the room. He managed to haul back our largest duffle bag and two of the backpacks, but most of the ammo and the rifle were toast in the SUV.”

“Well, Effingham isn’t a burnt out shell of a town, gotta have a pawn shop or something around here somewhere. Maybe a shooting range or something…?” She said hopefully.

“Probably. We’ll need new wheels too.” Sam chuckled. “All that extra gasoline in the back of the SUV lit it up like a bomb when that angel touched down.”

“THAT was an angel….??” Tracy blinked up at him in astonishment.

“I heard you say the name Ramiel and I’ve seen that angelic name in lore books that Bobby has…or you know, used to have….maybe.” Sam threaded his fingers through his hair, “That high pitched sound is an angel trying to speak….and the light, the shattering glass, all things that have happened when we encountered certain angels in the past.”

“Certain angels?” Tracy raised an eyebrow.

Sam started walking out of the room they were in, guiding Tracy with his hand on her shoulder to come along with him. “Yea. Let’s find Cas.”

They left the room they had been in, a showroom for allowing people to select a casket for their deceased loved ones, and walked out into the hall. Sam turned to the left and they passed a few opened double doors leading into other rooms… rooms where a viewing could take place, another room that looked like a living room, another room that held a series of urns placed along one wall. They came out of the hallway and into an entryway, and Sam made a direct line for another set of wooden double doors on the other side.

Sam opened these wide to reveal a modest non-denominational sanctuary. The space was such that it could be converted and used for a variety of religions or faiths. Wooden pews sat in simple rows on either side of a deep blue carpet runner that cut down the middle of the room. It lead up to a raised carpeted area that was empty of furnishings, and behind that was a large stained glass window.

The window was lovely. It had obviously been hand crafted to represent a weeping willow tree dipping its slender branches down into a pond. Behind the tableau green hills rolled away back to blue skies and feathery clouds. The late afternoon light washing in through this window painted the room in glittering pale colors.

Kneeling in front of this window, bent over with his head bowed to touch the carpet, was Castiel. In his hands he clutched Tracy’s Walkman, and the headphones for it were on his ears. His shoulders trembled slightly.

Castiel was weeping silently.

Sam held still, puzzled surprise on his face and his body language clearly showed he wasn’t sure what he should do. Just as he made a move as if to back out of the room, Tracy stilled him with a light touch.

She walked to Cas with slow steps, then sat down beside him.

He turned slightly, wet streaked cheeks reflecting the colored light in the room. His eyes peered at her cautiously. His hold on the Walkman loosened and Tracy carefully reached over and pulled it out of his hands. Then she gently pulled the headphones away from his ears.

[Music spilled out muted, but discernable anyway](http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/tagged/like%20a%20prayer).

 

“I hear your voice, it's like an angel sighing  
I have no choice, I hear your voice  
Feels like flying…..  
I close my eyes, Oh God I think I'm falling  
Out of the sky, I close my eyes  
Heaven help me…..”

 

Tracy clicked the Walkman off. “Oh Cas….” Her words were so tender it sounded as if she would start to cry too. “How many times have you listened to this?”

He sniffled once, sitting up, and then pushed the tears away from one eye with the heel of his hand. “I…. started on my walk back from the motel. I liked the first few songs it played and I kept listening and….”

She nodded and stole a glace at Sam. He had crept up to stand nearby and was now sinking down to sit in the first pew at the end close to them. His eyes were wide and pained.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have bothered your things….” Castiel dragged the sleeve of his other arm across his face in an attempt to dry the rest of his face.

“I really don’t mind.” She just placed the device down between them, within easy reach of both of them. “I’m happy you enjoyed the other stuff on there.”

“It plays cassette tapes.” Castiel explained, “Like Dean’s car.” As if that matter on some explicit important scale of the universe. As if that explained everything.

Cas and Sam traded one short but intense look and then both of them looked away. Sam’s expression sad, easily read that he was missing Dean, concerned for him. Castiel briefly looked as if he would start to tear up again, but his ducked his face down and hid his expression.

The three of them sat quietly for a long moment, just bathed in the light coming from the window. Dust motes dancing dreamily in the air.

Castiel broke the silence first as he dried his eyes and slowly sat up more. “The angel that contacted you Tracy…. What was the name you were given?” He carefully looked at Tracy now and it betrayed how much conflict was twisting inside of him.

She didn’t look at Cas, or at Sam, but instead kept her eyes on her hands resting on her knees. “Ramiel” She gave a light snort and chuckled, “Thunder of God.”

Castiel startled and turned fully around to face Tracy, “Ramiel? Are you sure??”

Sam spoke up, “I heard her say it out loud, after the SUV blew. When I could finally get closer.”

Castiel stood abruptly and paced away from Tracy a few steps, then turned back. “Ramiel is…. Not quite an archangel. But close. One step below one. Ramiel was a close friend of Gabriel’s and….”Castiel paused to look cautiously at Sam, “Originally one of Lucifer’s lieutenants.”

Sam sat up straighter and threw a worried look Tracy’s way. She was still looking down at her hands, but her demeanor appeared calm.

Castiel continued, “When Lucifer rebelled, Ramiel turned against him and was one of the angels that helped Michael place the Morningstar into his cage, even though Lucifer trained Ramiel. The thing I don’t understand is…” Castiel paused and now he looked at Tracy. “Ramiel never leaves Heaven. Ramiel’s position is welcoming souls to Heaven. Making sure they find comfort and peace. Ramiel…even up to the eve of the apocalypse… vowed to protect and watch over the human souls that came unto Paradise.”

Sam frowned with confusion, “Are you saying that Ramiel chose his own task?”

“I don’t know. The tale was that before Gabriel left, he made Ramiel swear never to follow, to stay and watch over the souls in Heaven.” Castiel answered.

A thought flickered across Tracy’s face and she asked, “Cas? Would an angel lie to their intended vessel?”

Castiel looked uncomfortable then, his hands coming to cling nervously to his upper thighs. “No but… we… they…. can twist the truth around.”

“But would they lie to their vessel’s about their name?” Tracy finally lifted her head and looked at Castiel.

Both Sam and Castiel looked directly at her then, their expressions at first confused but then a second later understanding washed over them.

“You think the angel lied about their name to you?” Sam stood up.

“No, it didn’t feel as if I was being lied to, but….”She shrugged, “It’s just something to consider. What if it were another angel claiming to be Ramiel to seem less…. I dunno… scary or something?”

Sam and Castiel traded glances, then Cas said, “What better way to convince you to open back up to Lucifer…take your friend as a vessel and threaten to burn her from the inside out until you say yes again Sam.”

Sam paled and visibly shuddered. He looked quickly from Cas to Tracy and back again. Then he turned away and walked down the aisle, stopping just at the doors. His shoulders were tense and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

“Burn me out?” Tracy looked to Cas, “What do you mean?”

Castiel looked down at his own hands now, pulled up slightly, palms open. “Angels can only take certain humans as vessels. Certain family bloodlines match up to certain angels. In an archangel’s case, it’s very specific families. If an archangel inhabits another angel’s family vessel, they will physically burn that person up…. Slowly. From the inside out.”

Tracy blinked and swallowed uneasy. “Okay then. Good to know.”

Sam let out a shivering sigh, and he canted his head slightly to the side, “We should find someplace to sleep for the night. I really don’t want to stay here when it gets dark….. I’ll go get our packs.” He moved past the doors then and disappeared around the corner.

Tracy’s expression was sad as she watched him go, and she bit her bottom lip a little. “I’m thinking maybe it was a good thing I didn’t say yes….”

Castiel turned to look at her with a quizzical expression, “Why did you say no? Is your faith not open to angels?”

Tracy bent down to pick up her Walkman, “I was actually raised Lutheran… but then somewhere along the way it seemed like church wasn’t where I was going to connect with God.” She began to wrap the headphone cord up around the Walkman itself, “But my faith has nothing to do with why I said no.”

Castiel held still, just watching her.

She looked at him apologetically, “Please don’t take this the wrong way….”

Cas frowned, puzzled, not understanding.

Tracy sighed and finally looked him in the eye. It was a difficult thing. His gaze had become more intense now that he was sober. It didn’t waiver, didn’t bend or shift. It felt eternal. She took in a deep breath and willed herself to be brave as she spoke. “Sam told me about Jimmy Novak. And Claire. And….”

An infinite sadness welled up inside Castiel’s eyes.

Tracy couldn’t take it and looked away. “I’m sorry Cas.” Tears clouded up into her eyes and muddled up her vision. “I didn’t want to be chained to a comet.”

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: Castiel and his drug use
> 
> * Music at the end of the chapter:
> 
> Dark Heart Dawning - BT  
> http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/70599952035

****

 

**Chapter 9**

**Effingham, IL. An hour later.**

Castiel, Sam and Tracy walked several blocks and found themselves in a residential neighborhood full of upscale two story large homes. They found one that was still locked and it’s windows unbroken. Sam decided it would be safe for the night and he picked the lock so they could enter.

Inside it was a typical Midwestern upper middle class home. Living room with family photos cluttered on the fireplace mantle. Kitchen with a sink tastefully situated on a countered island in its center and a double door refrigerator not far away. A full laundry room was off to one side and a proper dining room off the other, a half bath off hallway. Upstairs were four bedrooms and two more full baths, one even with a large Jacuzzi tub.

There was no water however, unlike the motel. And there was a thick layer of dust covering everything. The home had not been undisturbed for a very long time. No evidence of what happened to the family who had lived here could be found.

Tracy took it on herself to strip the blankets and bed spreads off the beds. She then took them outside and shook them to get as much dust out as possible. Then she did the same with the pillows. Sam busied himself by putting their backpacks and their duffle on the dining room table. He went through them making an inventory of what they had left as far as clothing, supplies and food. Castiel began searching through the house for candles, matches or lighters so when the sun finally set they would have some light.

While he searched for them in the clean but unfinished basement, he discovered a small metal toolbox that was locked. Curiosity got the better of him and he picked it open after several tries. He was rewarded with an old cell phone, a small black book with names, addresses and phone numbers, and a wooden box. The contents inside this second small box made a weak smile creep out across his face. Within it was someone’s drug stash; a handful of joints, several small plastic bags of pills, two plastic bags of some power and a half dozen syringes.

His grin growing a bit feral, Castiel set the boxes down and opened one of the bags of power. He tipped a finger in, gathering just a tiny dusting on its tip and brought that to his lips. He dabbed it on his tongue and the chemical bitterness flared there. He let out a small quivering groan of delight.

He closed the bag and put it back into the wooden box and tucked the box under one arm. Nearby he found some rubber tubing he could use as a tourniquet, a tiny tin pan he could use for the spoon and a small box of alcohol pads. Whoever had lived here before was an active user. He gathered all this up and took it upstairs to the second bath off the bedroom he would be using. He tucked it all into a drawer and went back to searching for candles and matches.

He paused once as he caught a glimpse of his face in a hallway mirror. He merely blinked, as if he didn’t recognize the face looking back at him. Then he quickly turned away.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Dean and Chuck had hit the town of Sullivan, they had abandoned county road 121 for road 32 and kept going. They had crossed over I70/57 and easily found the motel where Sam, Tracy and Castiel had been since it was near where the highway and the county road crossed each other.

Dean stood in the motel parking lot now, one boot roughly nudging at one of the Croat bodies. A dark scowl was working over his face as he looked at the bullet hole in the Croat’s head. “Yea, this is Castiel’s doing. He always had to show off with the headshots once he learned his way around firearms.” Dean looked up at the SUV nearby before he made his way over. He didn’t touch it, simply peeked his head in and looked around. Then he surveyed the motel and its damage with a sweeping look.

Chuck hovered over by the Camaro, his eyes darting around nervously, “Any idea where they might have gone?”

Dean pulled his eyes off the motel and turned around. He did a slow 180 look around, assessing the area. He noticed a peaked roof that was higher than the tree line as one faced deeper towards the town itself. He pointed at it, “Could be a house. Let’s try there.”

Dean went back to the Camaro as Chuck got back into the car. Soon they were driving around the next block over to discover a modest funeral home, it’s peaked roof pointing high up through the trees beside it.

Dean parked the car and eyeballed the building, “Stay here. I’ll look around inside…” He exited the car and drew his pistol. Using short light treading steps Dean quickly made his way up to the building.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

 

The beds were made and candles scattered through the house in the rooms they would be using. Sam had finished his inventory and they discovered they had some beef jerky and one packaged apple Danish left for food. They split it all evenly three ways, and ate in silence sitting around the dining room table.

“First light tomorrow we should be able to find a grocery store or convenience store nearby…. We should be able to find food there.” Sam said once they had finished their tiny meal.

“Maybe one of the other houses has something stashed away in a pantry too.” Tracy offered. “I’m thinking maybe we should just find enough to get us through tomorrow and spend most of our energy finding some wheels.”

Sam nodded in agreement, while his eyes kept drifting over to Tracy, “How are you feeling? You okay still?”

Tracy offered up that simple smile of hers, “Yea. No headaches or anything… well past the normal hunger stuff.” She let out a small laugh, “The cuts and scrapes… small ones are fine but….” She ran her fingers over the bandages on her thigh. “How often does this need to be changed?”

A warm smile came over Sam’s face and he moved over to kneel alongside her chair, “Here, let me take a peek….” He held his hands hovering over her thigh a moment, watching her face. She nodded, but as his hands and his eyes went to look at the wound, her cheek flashed up with color. Ever so tenderly he pulled away the bandages and lifted them to look at the four-inch cut that had sliced through her pants and her skin. “I think it’s okay if you sleep on it like this tonight and we’ll see about finding something else to dress it with tomorrow.” He said as he replaced the bandage.

When he was done he left his hands on her thigh and leaned his face in closer to hers, his smile growing as he saw her pinked cheeks. Her smile mirrored his and she leaned in closer as well.

When they were nose to nose, Castiel made an annoyed noise and stood up. “I’m going to bed.” He walked out of the room, and as he did he slipped Tracy’s Walkman into his hand.

She didn’t notice him taking the Walkman though she did see Cas leave. She whispered to Sam, “Maybe we shouldn’t be too smoochie in front of Cas…”

Sam let out a laugh, “Forget that! After all the years of unresolved sexual tension I had to put up with between he and Dean, it’s just karma coming back at him.” Sam closed the space between them and brushed his lips against her cheek, “There is something a lot more important I need to discuss with you…...”

“Ooh….oh?” Her breath caught a little when she answered him. One of his hands came to rest on her other thigh. “What’s so important?”

He breathed against the corner of her mouth, “I need to know that you’ll be sharing my bed tonight.” The low tone of his voice, and the slight almost growl that layered under his words made his intent clear.

Tracy felt her stomach quiver with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. She let her hands drift over to slip against his neck, thread up through his hair. As he mouthed with open kisses along her cheek and near her ear, she said softly, “It’s been a while though….since I …um…” Her cheeks flared up more.

Sam pushed his hands up the outside of her thighs, gripped her hips and dragged her closer. He moved up between her legs and groaned softly near her ear, “Me too…. It’ll be okay….”

She gave a little nod as her eyes slipped closed, the feel of his strong hands sunk in firm against her round hips was starting to make her legs feel weak. “Sam….I….”

"Tracy….” Sam panted as he pulled away just enough so he could look at her face, “Tracy look at me…” She opened her eyes. They had gone so dark that it was impossible to tell where the chocolate of her irises ended and her pupils began.

“I want you so much.” He breathed out low, hurriedly, as if he wasn’t going to be able to string together a coherent sentence soon. “Please….”

“Yes, oh Sam yes…” She gulped out. Her whole body was beginning to tremble now, and she tightened her fingers in his hair.

At that he surged up and swallowed her mouth into a heated kiss, his hands jerking her hips flush to his. He pressed her back against the chair and caused the wood to creek. She lifted her knees up to cradle him between her legs as they kissed deep and long.

When she instinctively rocked her hips and found his erection strained taught under his jeans, they both let off a small gasp. Sam bundled his arms around her and hoisted her up, pressing them together flush. He stood and carried her upstairs as fast as he could.

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dean came back to the Camaro, his gun tucked back into his waistband. He shook his head as he shut the door, “They were there. The medical supplies were definitely rummaged through recently.” He paused for a moment and ran his fingers over the surface of the steering wheel. It was sinking in now that he was close, so close to finding Sam again, so close to being with his brother again. It made his guts twist with the anticipation of it. And Castiel. Cas was with Sam. How had he found Sam?

And then another thing dawned on Dean and it made that flutter of nervousness jump. Made him start to sweat a little. He was going to see Cas again soon. The memory from the day Cas left the Camp, of Cas’ hand rubbing against his crotch haunted him and thinking about it now made his skin feel tight everywhere. He was going to have to face Castiel and do it with Sam there.

“This is gonna suck.” Dean murmured.

“What?” Chuck looked at him, his eyes tired and weary. Chuck had fallen asleep in the car, as he had waited on Dean.

Dean drank in a heavy breath, “Finding them, it’s…. never mind. I don’t think we’ll be able to do much more tonight. It’s getting’ dark. They could be anywhere.” Dean started the Camaro. “Let’s find a safe spot to crash and then we’ll look tomorrow.”

Dean pulled away from the curb and began to cruise along the town’s streets. In short time he managed to find the same neighbor hood Castiel, Sam and Tracy were in without knowing it. He idly crawled the car along at a slow pace scoping out the houses as he looked for one for he and Chuck to take shelter at. He turned a corner and there, a few houses down, he could see light flickering faintly through the curtains of one of the upper windows.

Dean rolled to a stop and left Chuck in the car. Again, as he had at the Funeral home, he took out his gun and approached the house cautiously. He had just slipped alongside the house when the flickering light he had seen in the window winked out.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

 

Castiel had heard Sam bring Tracy up the steps, had heard the two of them tumble into the master bedroom and shut the door. He had slipped out of the room he had chosen for his and stood outside their door to listen.

He couldn’t hear the words they said, but the sounds they were making were very clear. Sam would groan and grunt out clipped deep sounds and Tracy would answer them with soft breathy sighs and moans.

Cas stood listening for a while, feeling his skin heat up, aroused by what he was hearing. He pressed the heel of his hand against his thickening cock and bit his lip. He was considering just standing there and stroking himself as he listened, but then a memory flared up unbidden in his mind and he stopped. The feel of the denim under his fingers recalled the feel of the front of Dean’s jeans the last day he had seen the man. Castiel’s emotional state started to crumble.

That feeling of emptiness clawed up through his gut and into his chest. Cas stumbled away, back to his room. He pressed his hand over his face and willed himself not to break any further. He missed Dean, missed the sound of his voice, missed the way the man’s presence vibrated the air around him. And with that came the longing. The longing to feel Dean’s skin, to know the push and pull of his body, to hear the sounds he would make if he let Cas explore, touch, and suck.

With a pained sigh, he went into the bathroom and got the wooden box. He took it and Tracy’s Walkman to the nightstand by the bed. Then he brought over one of the candles as well.

He sat down and began prepping the heroin. When it was ready and loaded in the syringe, he put the headphones on and started the cassette playing. He slipped the needle into his vein and sank back into the bed. He pressed the plunger on the syringe and sent the drug singing into his blood.

As the drug coursed through his system, his whole body felt as if a thousand tiny fireflies were swimming bright under his skin. [The music in his ears moved and vibrated and soothed.](http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/70599952035)

 

“I came up in it  
I crash down in it  
It's all good…..  
I feel complete in it  
I black out in it  
It's all good….”

 

His fingers uncurled around the empty syringe and he let it clatter to the floor. He drifted off into the music, floating and flying in sparkling pleasure. The music and the sensation swallowed him and he was gone.

 

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of this chapter is a map tracking Dean, Cas and Sam's journey thus far.  
> The "X"s are their start points.  
> Dean = Green  
> Cas = Blue  
> Sam = Red

****

 

 

**Chapter 10**

**Effingham, IL.**

 

Dean crept up to the back door and found it unlocked. He turned the knob slowly, silently with one hand, while keeping his gun handy and ready in the other. He slunk through the door and into the kitchen. From there he made his way into the dining room.

Spread across the table was a duffle bag, three backpacks, various clothing folded and stacked, two machetes, another hunting knife, a handful of medical bandages and a small field suture kit, an empty canteen and various other survival supplies. Dean recognized the suture kit as the ones Chuck had kept stocked at Camp Chitaqua.

He was about to move on when something else on the table caught his eye. A small stack of eight cassette tapes were lined up in a neat row. He thumbed over them reading the titles to himself, a small pleased half smirk on his lips. He was about to pick one up when I sound from upstairs caught his ear.

His body tensed and he slipped silently over to the stairs that lead to the second floor. Keeping in a half crouch he climbed them, his gun held near the side of his face. When he reached the top, it went into the hallway beyond, and the sounds were muffled but more evident.

He could see six doors lining the hallway, four were closed but two were hanging open. One was close to the top of the stairs and Dean moved to that one first. He braced himself against the wall, then swiftly rolled into the room with his gun pointed forward.

It was an empty bedroom, dark now that the sun had set.

Dean took a moment and checked the room, looked in the closet. Once he was satisfied the room was empty, he went back out into the hall. He went to the next door and repeated his motions.

This time when he swung into the room with his gun out, he found the bed occupied. Castiel was spread out, face down on his stomach across the bed and his body was half wrapped up in the bed’s blanket. His head was nuzzled into a pillow, and a headphone set was around the back of his head and covering both of his ears. His breathing was coming slow but shallow.

Dean choked back a noise in his throat and put the safety back on his gun. He shoved it into the back waistband of his jeans, and then just stood along side the bed. His hands hung helplessly at his sides and his eyes swept over Castiel’s body. He knew the look in Cas’ eyes, knew the signs of Cas when he was strung out. He carefully leaned over and brushed Cas’ hair off his forehead then brought his fingers to test Cas’ pulse.

Satisfied that this was just another of Castiel’s dips into drug land and not an overdose, Dean made his way back into the hallway. The other doors revealed another bedroom, a bathroom and a linen closet. When he came to the final door at the end, he paused. He leaned close and now he could hear clearly the noises that he had caught snips of earlier.

Dean had caught Sam as a teen, jerking off once or twice, and had walked in on him with a girl a few times as they had gotten older. He knew what the sounds on the other side of the door meant and he carefully backed away. As much as he wanted to fling open the door and see his brother, he didn’t want to walk in on something like that.

Dean wandered back to Castiel’s room. The small smirk of amusement at the knowledge that his brother was getting laid withered when he saw Cas again. With a heavy sigh Dean came and sat down on the bed beside Cas.

Feeling another body next to him, Cas turned a little and eyed Dean. He blinked a few times, his eyes red and hazy. He smiled a weak and watery sort of thing, his lips moving without sound coming out at first. He twisted around more on the bed, reached out and stroked his hand down Dean’s sleeve and sighed.

“Hello Dean.”

“Hey Cas.” Dean’s voice broke a little and he straightened his shoulders.

Cas smiled more then, and it was warmer, less thin and wasted. For a moment he hummed softly along to the music he was listening to. Then he began to half sing, half speak in a whisper to Dean, “……and in the age of love, you came and split my heart…. and in the rage of love, you taught the joy in pain…. and in the age of love, I found my sacred place…. where I could hide…..from the dark heart that’s dawning…. like now….” He rolled his head back and sunk against the pillow, his lips moving to lyrics Dean couldn’t hear.

Dean’s eyes watered up and he held very still. The song lyrics dug into his gut and twisted around his heart. However, he knew when Cas got like this, when he was gone in his head riding the waves of sensation from the drugs, there would be no talking to him. He hesitantly reached out one hand and rested it against Cas’ forearm, and stroked down his sleeve exactly as Cas had done to him not a moment before.

Feeling that, Cas twisted again and curled his body around Dean’s hips, pressing his stomach against Dean’s lower back and resting his head along side Dean’s knee at the edge of the bed. Castiel’s eyes were closed but his face was relaxed, serene.

Dean ran his fingers across Cas’ forehead again, with great tenderness, smoothing the dark hair away from Cas’ tan skin. As Cas’ breath deepened and eased away from its fluttering, Dean’s fingers began to shake a little.

Dean pulled his mouth into a grimace to keep his lip from trembling too. “What have we done to each other Cas? What have we done…..”

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

 

“Wh…what are you… ohmygod…..Sam….” Tracy gasped out. Sam’s face was nuzzled into her chest, his mouth making itself very acquainted with her erogenous zones there as he sucked and licked and nibbled. But that wasn’t what had Tracy’s head thrown back, or forcing gasps out of her mouth.

One of Sam’s arms was curled possessively under her back, while his other hand’s fingers were exploring the soft folds between her legs. He grinned against her skin as he reduced her to a quivering writhing mess with just a few soft circles of his thumb.

The sounds she made were short-circuiting his brain, ramping his own desire into a heady ache. Soon the need to slide up, rub his shaft where his fingers had been, was overwhelming. He brought his body up to curl over hers and using one hand to guide himself, swung his hips up slowly to bury himself inside her.

They both cried out with the intense pleasure of it, gripping and holding each other close as they rocked and squirmed. Tracy was making these sweet halting breathy whimpers now, her chin tipped against his shoulder. Sam groaned and quivered, fighting not to give in and cum too soon. She was like this glorious drug, sinking into him wherever their skin touched, setting his nerves alight with electricity.

They slipped and pressed, bucked and pushed, and when Sam ground his hips in a quick circle Tracy cried out babbling, “…so good….don’t stop…… Ssssaaaammmm!”

They had tumbled into the room and made short work of their clothing before, falling together into the bed with their lips and hands roaming over each other. Both starved for the touch, the affection, the fever of being physical like this. Sam had found her so responsive, but shy at times, ducking her head the first time he had made her cum with his fingers. Hiding her face behind her arm when he brought her to climax with his mouth.

Now, as he sank deep inside her over and over again, he took one hand and cupped her cheek. He brought her face up to look at him, their eyes locking. Their mouths were both open, breathing each other’s air. Sam’s lip quivered and they pushed closer to release.

“I’m so….h..happy….you found…me….” The words stuttered out of Sam’s mouth as he held her gaze.

“Oooh Sam….. I think I….” She gripped hard to his shoulders and her eyes went very wide, “….I’m gonna….I’m…..”

This orgasm was explosive and she cried out his name with it. Sam devoured her mouth with his and held her so tight, his arms clenching her close as she clenched at him deep inside her. His orgasm hit him like a train, the pleasure lancing through him so hard his whole body seized up. His cry swallowed by their kiss.

They panted and clung to each other as they rode through the waves of it, nuzzling and trembling. Finally after a long moment, they kissed again and Tracy broke it off with a small light laugh as she gasped for air.

“Promise me we’ll do that again soon….” Her face was glowing with happiness, and her eyes were warm and soft.

“I want to do that all night.” He let out a low playful growl that was instantly answered by a lower louder growl from his stomach.

They dissolved into a tangle of limbs and laughter and giggles. Finally Sam rolled onto his back and he tugged Tracy against his side, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and buried his face into her soft dark hair. She cuddled up against him and yawned.

“I wore you out.” Sam said with a smile.

She merely nodded, nuzzling against him with a happy hum.

Lazily he stroked his thumb against her shoulder, “Tomorrow I want us to take some time and talk….”

“About what?” She said sleepily.

“Stuff you said back at that RV park that night.” He nosed in to kiss the top of her head.

“Sam, that was a whole state ago.” She sighed deeply, but finally said, “Okay. Okay. We’ll talk.”

“Good.”

And then they drifted off asleep.

 

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
>  http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
>  http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	11. Chapter 11

****

 

**Chapter 11**

**Effingham, IL. Four hours later.**

 

The windows of the Camaro were lightly fogged over and almost frosty as the deepening night in the Central Illinois town grew chill. A drizzle of icy rain had started to mist down around the car, droplets of ice melting as it hit the car’s warmer surface. Within, Chuck shivered down, drawing a rough blanket up over his shoulders. He was half asleep and sinking drowsy into deeper slumber. He wasn’t sure how long Dean had been gone, and knew instinctively that he should stay awake, alert for threats, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Finally he slipped into unconsciousness, the world beyond becoming a dark far away thing.

Chuck floated in half dreams until he found himself sailing softly over a garden of roses, his bare feet touching down into lush green grass. The texture of it on his bare skin brought a tingle of joy welling up within him. He walked idly, with no direction or purpose. He would reach out and let his finger tips dance and drag across the rose petals, feeling their velvety smoothness.

“It’s beautiful here isn’t it?” A gentle voice said.

Chuck looked over to find a young woman standing in the garden with him. She was clad in a flowing robe of white, and it hid her body making it impossible to tell if she was thin or curvy, muscled or willowy. Her hair changed in shade and style as he looked at her. One moment she was blonde, then her hair was black and plaited into luxurious rows. Then it would shift and her hair would be short, messy and ginger. Then it was brown and curly, bouncing with an unfelt breeze. Her face, Chuck couldn’t make out at all. It was a flickering shimmering pool of colored light, looking like a shifting sunset against rolling clouds.

“You aren’t Lucifer….” Chuck stated and marveled at how he wasn’t disoriented looking at the morphing colors of her face.

“No. I am not.” Her body held still and she seemed to just regard him.

“Is this a vision or am I dreaming?” Chuck asked.

“Both. And neither. I need to speak with you Chuck Shurley, Prophet of the Lord, Keeper of the Winchester Gospels.” She said it simply. “There is knowledge you need. Things the Winchesters must know if they are to overcome what lies ahead of them.”

“Who are you?” Chuck raised a brow at her and stepped slightly around, as if to circle her. He looked for the shadow of angel wings or the hint of demon taint.

“I am…..” She paused, “Not what appears here to you. My name….. Ramiel.”

“Angel then.” Chuck almost smirked, “But not one of those usual suits….”

“Soldiers and Pawns.” She corrected. “Michael, a Knight. Raphael, another. Gabriel…a Bishop…..Lucifer, a King now perhaps….”

“You’re speaking as if angels are chess pieces.” Chuck frowned.

“Of course it’s not as simple as that, but I need you to think of this symbolically for you to understand.” Still she did not move, and her voice remained calm, soothing.

“Are you the other bishop?” Chuck narrowed his eyes slightly.

“I did not want to be, but I am now stepping into that role.” Her voice sounded sad then.

Chuck nodded and reached out to touch one of the rose blooms near him. He caressed a petal between his finger and thumb, “And the Queen?”

“I think you know that answer. What angel moved so freely across the board, checked each piece they encountered, and had it within them to win the board, oft times in a single action?” Her body still had not moved, but now instead of sadness, there was a hint of mirth in her voice.

Chuck stopped and turned fully towards her, “Castiel.”

“To our surprise. Castiel was least expected to be such a formidable piece on the board.” She tipped her head slightly in a faint nod.

“But he’s not an angel now, he’s not on the board anymore.” Chuck let his hands fall to his sides.

“There is no board anymore to be on. The Winchesters, bless them, threw the board out. You all did. No more Queen, no more King, no more pawns.” A sound much like a sigh escaped her.

“I guess when we tossed out the old board we tossed out the old ways to cage Lucifer too huh?” Chuck shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “So what, now we have a King running around on a new board, new rules, a hampered Queen and what…. A couple of brothers with a give em’ hell attitude?” Chuck shrugged somewhat helplessly.

Ramiel turned and extended one sleeve of her robe, gesturing to her left and Chuck’s right. The haze of dream filtered away and the ball of angels, their grace brilliant and glowing as they swam together, came into view.

“Behold. Angels with no vessels. We all were caught here on Earth when Lucifer closed off Heaven.” She explained. “My Garrison. Or what’s left of them.” She spoke with reverence now. “We were trapped here when I broke my promise and I came looking for Gabriel’s fallen vessel. We have been searching since we heard he had been slain by Lucifer’s hand. They had their own wills though, they followed me of their own choice until they were recently bound together by Lucifer.”

“I haven’t seen that many angels handle the free will thing very successfully you know.” Chuck pulled his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you going to free them now?”

“No. I cannot. Lucifer is too powerful." The angel said.

"But they're your Garrison...." Chuck tried to understand.

"They weren’t supposed to be my Garrison in the first place. They were Gabriel’s.” Ramiel turned away from Chuck then. “When Gabriel disappeared, when he left Heaven, I was placed in command over them…. And now….”

Chuck waited, watching this unusual Angel. He saw her form slump slightly, saw her body’s colors dim, edging with grey. “And now?”

“And now…” It sounded to Chuck for a moment as if Ramiel would continue talking about Gabriel. Instead she said, “Lucifer must be stopped and I can not do it alone.”

Ramiel turned to face Chuck then, “Before he can coerce or convince Sam Winchester to receive him once more. Or before he finds another suitable vessel. I have chosen to be a road block to him, to take up the banner Michael failed to uphold, to raise it in Gabriel’s honor, to do what should have been done an eon ago. But you must help me.”

“I don’t understand….” Chuck’s expression tightened across his face. “You talk as if….. Wait, Sam is his only viable vessel, there isn’t another….and you speak as if he can be actually destroyed, not just caged.”

“Sam was primed for Lucifer by being tainted with the demon blood. But Dean also could hold Lucifer, just as he could hold Michael.” Ramiel tilted her head again as if to say, ‘Can’t you see?’

“Dean would need to chug demon blood, but wow… he could hold Lucifer couldn’t he….” Chuck ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Maybe not as well but he could do it. So they are both in danger.” Chuck looked back at Ramiel. “So why did Lucifer leave Sam?”

“Arrogance perhaps. He believes to have won. Being in a vessel is confining, even in a vessel that has been born, bred and primed to house an archangel. That doesn’t mean that angel won’t want to release out into its true form. Especially an archangel who has been caged for a millennia.” Ramiel answered. “Perhaps he went to find God, do his victory dance and taunt the Creator. What matters is, when he returns, when he goes to Sam as he will, we must be ready for him.”

“But how? I mean, if we had the Horseman’s rings we could try to cage him again but….” Chuck reached up and scratched his head. He began to pace a little nervously.

“Everything dies dear Prophet. This is one of the Great Truths. Even archangels must die someday….…. Death will reap everything. One day, Death will even reap God…. Where ever he may be.” Ramiel’s voice took on a serious tone.

“But Death is being held and controlled in spell by Lucifer isn’t he?” Chuck frowned.

“Indeed. But if one could free Death’s hand….All we need do is weaken Lucifer. I have a tablet that may show us how...." Ramiel paused and turned as if listening to something. Then the angel turned quickly back to Chuck and her voice was urgent and alarmed, “You must wake up now Prophet! A group of men have come to you. They will not harm you, Castiel or the Winchesters or Tracy. They mean you no ill will, but they are frightened and jaded, they distrust. You must convince the Winchesters not to fight them, tell them to go peacefully. Hurry….!!”

Ramiel began to stretch out the edge of a robe sleeve towards Chuck, but Chuck sputtered and backed up out of reach, “Hold on! Will I speak to you again? Were you the angel with that woman, Tracy? You were trying to take her as a vessel weren’t you? Who are these people you’re talking about? And why was Lucifer in my vision before?? I need to know!!”

“There is no time now Prophet!” Ramiel reached over and tapped Chuck’s forehead with the edge of her sleeve, “WAKE UP!”

One moment Chuck was being overwhelmed by bright vivid light and then….

He jerked awake hard enough he nearly slammed his head against the frosted window of the car. Outside was oddly bright, but not like the light from Ramiel. It was a harsh white light, incandescent and blinding. And it swung slightly before it honed in to spotlight the front of the Camaro.

Chuck fumbled with the door latch for a moment before the door fell open and he came half tumbling out. The light hit him in the eyes and he ducked his head, shielding himself with his arm as he shuffled free of the blanket that had been around him.

There were the sounds of feet running closer, and then the light ahead silhouetted the shapes and forms of other people coming into view. Chuck heard the familiar sounds of guns being cocked, chambers locking in.

He raised his hands over his head and threaded his fingers against the back of his crown. Slowly he sunk to his knees on the cold wet pavement. “The guy in the house, don’t draw on him, let him know you won’t shoot…. keep your guns down and he won’t fight you!” Chuck called out.

“Stay down!” a voice rang out, “Keep your hands where we can see them!”

Three more people came into view and moved close to Chuck. They were holding boxes in their hands, devices with sensors sticking out of the fronts. They were all wearing yellow HAZMAT suits, gloves and boots. Their faces were hidden behind shadows in the plastic face hoods. They came close, scanning the devices over Chuck as a fourth came forward and with latex gloved hands, began a cursory examination of Chuck’s face and exposed skin.

The one that had touched Chuck stepped back and waved once, then the same voice from before called out, “This one’s clear! Get him into a van!”

Chuck found himself being hustled by more people in HAZMAT suits across the street and past the huge spotlights that were mounted on two HUMVEE vehicles. He was brought around to the first of a row of white vans; all with their side doors spread open and metal cages installed within. As Chuck was brought near the first, he looked over to see Castiel being carried limp and unconscious. Castiel was loaded into the van at the end of the row and Chuck couldn’t see him anymore.

A hand came down to force Chuck to duck as he was shoved into the van, and into a caged area in the back. He was pushed deeper in. Then the doors to the cage itself were closed and locked behind him. After that the van doors were shut as well. He shifted to the back of the van to look through the square windows there.

He could see that every single person in this large entourage was wearing some form of a protective suit, and many were armed with high-grade military rifles and guns. The two HUMVEES swung their massive spotlights around and Chuck could see the front lawn of the house Dean had gone to.

Dean was there now, struggling vehemently with four of these suited people as they tried to hold him. They had his arms bent hard behind his back, but his feet kept slipping on the icy wet grass and he couldn’t gain purchase. He was thrashing and trying to throw them off of him with no luck. He was shouting out Castiel’s name.

And then they brought Sam out, bare-chested and bare foot, his jeans loose on his hips looking as if he had hastily dressed.

Chuck could see that Sam caught sight of Dean first, saw his brother bent half forward in his struggle, saw Dean try to roll his shoulders, to pitch his weight to toss his captors off. Chuck saw two armed men approaching quickly, semi-automatic guns raised and trained on Dean.

Sam surged toward Dean, trying to wrench himself free from the men who held him. Chuck could hear Sam’s voice ring out into the air, desperate and terrified for his brother, “DON’T HURT HIM!!!”

“SAM?!?!” That was when Dean’s head whipped around as far as he could force it, the corner of his eye peering over his shoulder at his brother.

“DEAN!!” Chuck heard Sam yell with every ounce of breath in his body. The brother’s eyes locked and both of them froze. Even at this distance Chuck could see their faces become a riot mix of relief, desperation, fear and concern. Sam drew one leg up and twisted to bring it down against one of his captor’s kneecaps. He connected, but at the same moment that man fell, one of the other men brought the butt of his weapon down hard on Sam’s shoulder near the back of his neck. Sam fell forward onto the grass, bent in half and Chuck could no longer see his face.

“SAM!!!” Another voice ripped out into the air as Sam dropped. Chuck and Dean both strained to turn to see where the other cry came from and found one of the men moving Tracy out of the front door. She too was barefoot, wearing dark cargo pants that were ripped at her thigh and a t-shirt. She looked as if she had dressed quickly as well. Her captor had one hand firmly on Tracy’s shoulder, and the other hand hefting one of the semi-automatic guns.

But seeing Sam fall had also made Tracy stop in her tracks, her face an echo of what Dean was feeling in his heart.

There was a breath of a moment where everything seemed to halt. Tracy took that moment and reached both hands back to grip the armed man’s hand on her shoulder. She bent forward and yanked, dragging the man’s body over her back, his shoulders curving over hers, his hips lined up just above hers as his backside came up behind. And she kept the momentum, kept rolling forward until the man tumbled right over her shoulder to land hard on his back a half second later. And Tracy was on him then, one foot coming down to ruthlessly slam into his groin. She released his hand to grab and shove the body of the gun against the faceplate of his suit. It came down with a loud crack that echoed out into the air.

It was answered by the men who had taken Chuck. They rushed from near the van he was in, coming fast across the lawn with their guns up and trained on Tracy. She halted and stood, slowly raising her hands up and stepping back from the man writhing in pain on the ground beneath her.

“GET ON THE GROUND!!” One of the gunmen yelled at Tracy. His voice was furious. “NOW!!”

Tracy scowled, and looked over at Sam on the ground. His face was half shoved into the wet grass, his eyes unfocused. Two men held him down while one bound his arms in duct tape.

Tracy and Chuck both looked over to see Dean go down next, the barrel of a gun planted hard to the back of his skull. His eyes flicked from Sam to Tracy and back again as they bound his arms as well.

“Hey…. HEY HEY HEY!!” Dean called out to Tracy.

Her eyes stopped roaming between the gunmen and found Dean’s. Her eyes had gone feral dark and cold. Dean knew that look, had seen it in his own eyes when he thought he had nothing left to lose and figured a rash act was his only way out. She wasn’t thinking, only reacting.

When Tracy’s eyes flicked back over to the gunman closest to her, Dean spoke up loudly, “HEY! Look at me….”

Tracy dragged her eyes back to Dean.

“They’re just humans!” Dean called out, “Just humans. I can make them bleed. We’ll get out of this. I’ll get you and Sam out of this.”

“You’ll get Sam out of this??” She scoffed. “Where were you when he was tied to a chair with a needle shoved into his arm?!” She was hot and angry and her emotions were pulled tighter than a garrote across a marked man’s throat. Her fingers flexed once and then she was moving, diving low at the knees of the closest gunman. She clobbered him with her shoulder, and he buckled to the ground. His gun went off, firing a rapid spray of bullets into the air.

There was shouting, and anyone with a free hand was zeroed in on Tracy. Chuck saw Dean twist onto his back but then there was the bright blue abrupt spark of a taser against Dean’s leg and he slumped back. A moment later the same quick bright flash lit up Tracy’s shoulder and she cried out in pain before slumping over.

Chuck reached up with his sleeve to wipe away the fog that was clouding on the window from his breath. Sam was moving, but slowly. Dean and Tracy were still and limp. Soon all three were being loaded into several vans, doors being slammed shut behind them.

Men mounted into the HUMVEEs and others climbed into the remaining vans. Two came back to the van Chuck was in, opened the driver and passenger doors and took a seat. They pulled off their HAZMAT hoods and set them down between their seats.

Chuck turned more to get a better look at them as he slumped down against the inside wall of the van. To his surprise they were both young women. One had short-cropped pale blonde hair, the other had longer darker blonde hair tucked up into a tidy knot.

“Who are you people?!” Chuck croaked out.

The woman with the shorter hair turned around and speared Chuck with a hard look, “You’ll find out soon enough pal.”

“Hey, I told you people not to go in with your guns out.…. You wouldn’t have had a fight on your hands…. Jesus, you tasered them! Was that necessary?!” Chuck slammed on hand against the bars of the cage.

“Our commanding officer gave the order….. He said you were dangerous and we were to use extreme force but not to kill.” The woman barked back. “We tried to subdue the targets, we…”

“Targets?! They’re people!” Chuck cried out in frustration. “What kind of fucked up group are you?!”

The woman opened her mouth to retort, but she was cut off when the other woman said something low and soft where he couldn’t hear. The first woman turned back around and pulled out a walkie-talkie. She clicked it on, ordered “Roll out!” over it and the other woman started the van.

Within moments Chuck could tell they were on their way to the highway. He made himself comfortable as best as he could. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and for the first time in his life wished he could trigger his visions so he could discover what the hell was going on.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The music Castiel is listening to -
> 
> The Only Constant is Change - BT  
> http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/78524299179

****

 

 

**Chapter 12**

Dean came up groggily into consciousness. The muscles of his arms ached from being pulled behind his back and the muscle of his thigh stung where they had tasered him. He blinked his eyes open, found them gummy and cloudy. He rubbed his knuckle into the corner of one eye to smush away its goo. After a moment he sat up, his head pounding with a mild headache.

He was in a holding cell, but not the usual police or jail cell.

It had been modified slightly. Three walls were the usual dull painted cinder block. The fourth wall, the one that normally held metal bars, was comprised of a solid thick wall of Plexiglas. Small two inch round holes dotted the very top of the wall in a row and a door, much like ones he’d seen on submarines in the movies, was mounted just to the left side. It looked as if it were sealed in a way to keep water from leaking through.

Dean glanced up and found the small one-foot by two-foot jail window filled with the Plexiglas as well. It also had the small round holes in a row at it’s top.

Dean rolled over, sitting on the edge of the cot he was on. It was a simple metal frame with a foam rubber cushion for a mattress. The usual jail toilet was on the other wall but there was no sink or anything else in the room.

Dean looked down to find his clothes and boots were gone. He was dressed in a hospital gown and that was it. He was grateful that the room was a warmer temperature, and that the cement floor under his feet didn’t feel like ice.

Dean stood up and walked stiffly to the Plexiglas wall. Beyond it was a hallway and opposite his cell was another facing towards him, identical to his. The light in here was low and dim coming from the windows, but Dean could make out Sam’s unconscious form on the cot in the other cell.

He called out to Sam several times, but Sam remained slumbering on his cot. Dean could see the rise and fall of Sam’s chest, and wondered if his brother could even hear him through the thick plastic wall.

Dean stood there a long time just watching Sam sleep. His brother’s hair had gotten bit longer, and his body looked a bit leaner, but not in an unhealthy way. Sam’s fingers fluttered once, as did his eyelids and Dean wondered what his brother was dreaming about. With a heavy sigh he pulled his eyes away from his brother’s slumbering form.

Dean took a long look at the hallway and the door to Sam’s cell. It appeared to be just like Dean’s but the side facing out into the hallway had a pressure lock mechanism and a card key slot to open it. Dean grimaced and smacked his hand in frustration against the Plexiglas. There was no way to pick the doors open here.

Dean continued to take in the rest of the hallway. There was another cell next to Sam’s, to Dean’ right. It appeared empty. It’s cot unused. A cold dread twisted into Dean’s gut at not seeing Castiel inside, and he consciously pushed it down. He flicked his eyes into the other direction to see a door, a regular door, leading out.

A low whisper of a voice suddenly caught Dean’s ears and he turned quickly. It sounded as if it had come from within his cell. He moved to the center of the room and held still. The sound came again, and Dean’s eyes snapped to the wall his cot sat against. The cot wasn’t bolted down, so Dean shoved it aside.

There, just level with the side of where the cot sat against the cinder blocks, was a small rectangular hole in the wall. Dean dropped down to half sit, half lay on his hip and peered through.

In the cell next to his, Castiel was lying on his cot on the other side of that room. One of Cas’ arms was draped over his face, while the other swayed back and forth over the cot’s side. The headphones Cas had been wearing when Dean had found him were still on his head, and Castiel was murmuring, singing low. [The words echoed faintly off the barren cell walls:](http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/78524299179)

 

“In a trillion years,  
the stars will no longer shine  
But we'll remain, get it right  
or come back again...my love….”

 

Dean shoved his fingers into the hole in the cinder block and hissed out, “Cas! CAS!” Dean found he could get most of his hand through the hole, but that was it. “Dammit Cas! Castiel!” Dean’s voice rose with each word.

Cas rolled over, facing Dean now and the arm over his face fell away. He opened his eyes and blinked once, twice. Their whites were blood shot, red rimmed. The usual vivid blue was faded, grayish in the grim light coming into the cells. One hand was clasped tightly to Tracy’s Walkman now.

Dean pulled his hand back and peeked through the hole, holding his face close so Cas could see his eyes. “Cas, it’s Dean…. Please….”

Castiel pulled himself up sitting, then languidly brought himself off the cot and over to the wall. He dropped down to lean his shoulder against the cinder block, tucking his knee up so it just came to the lip of the hole.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was dry, pleading.

Dean could hear more than see as Castiel removed the headphones from his ears. Muted music came through the hole, followed by the headphones themselves. Cas pushed them through to Dean’s side, their cord leaving a thin black trail back into Castiel’s cell. The music kept playing through the headphones and Dean could hear it clearly now:

 

“We need more love in the world  
We need more hope in the world  
Build more joy in the world  
we crave more love...”

 

Castiel didn’t move.

Dean took hold of the headphones gently and tugged lightly at their cord. “Cas?”

Cas answered by singing low and soft again with the music coming from the headphones…

 

“My love,  
….will never change  
though we, we've ruined everything….  
the stars still conspire for us….”

 

Castiel stood up then, muttering with the song, “….the stars still conspire for us…” as he made his way back to his cot. He lay down, rolled to face the wall and said nothing more.

The Walkman on Cas’ side of the wall clicked off and Dean was left in silence.

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Tracy had a black eye, a bruise on her chin, and several scrapes on her arms with more bruises dashed across her body under her clothes. She also had a second degree burn mark on her upper right arm near her shoulder from the taser they had used on her. All these had been tended to. She had been given a new shirt to replace the one that had been torn when the team sent to extract her, the Winchesters, Castiel and Chuck, had descended on her to subdue her.

At the moment however, the only thing she was happy to be wearing was the smug expression on her face. And maybe the bit of grass still stuck in her hair.

She was currently seated in a padded metal chair, the kind you see in retro television shows about UFOs and science. Her wrists were secured to the arms of the chair with panty hose, of all things. Interestingly enough, she noted that the one time she tested those bonds, she discovered the knots tightened when tugged on.

“Now let me get this straight….” A young woman, probably younger than Tracy by about five or six years, was frowning and pulling her glasses down off her nose as she speared the man standing beside Tracy with an incredulous look. “You went in the house with weapons out?!”

The man beside Tracy was standing in military “at ease” but he was not in any way, at ease. He was wearing standard BDUs, and the apple of his throat kept bobbing nervously. “Councilwoman Bradbury, we determined that the group was hostile the day before we made contact and…”

There was a small uproar from the rest of the people in the room. While Tracy was seated, and the man stood beside her, the rest of the people in the room were seated behind a long wood conference table. There were twelve of them in all, and of varying ages and ethnic backgrounds. The first woman with the glasses had long straight red hair, fair skin and wide grey green eyes. She was standing now, gesturing adamantly at the man wearing BDUs while looking at another man down the table. That man was dark skinned and wearing a suit jacket, simply shaking his head while looking appalled at everyone.

Finally a young man seated at the center of the table raised a gavel in one hand and brought it down several times against the table. Tracy could see a worn spot on the table’s surface from where it had obviously been struck many times before. When everyone calmed and quieted, the young man stood up. Tracy speculated that he couldn’t be older than nineteen or twenty, but his wide dark eyes held a great deal of wisdom for someone his age.

“Okay, okay….that’ll be enough.” He turned to Councilwoman Bradbury and threw her a warning look before he turned and addressed the man wearing military clothing. “Sergeant Holis, I’ve read over your report. I know you felt that your actions in this matter were justified, but these are still our fellow human beings. If we have learned anything from these last five years, it should be that untainted people should be treasured, not fired upon.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I am recommending you take a leave of absence from your current post and take up duty in the agricultural section for the time being. Please see Harvey for your new position there. Dismissed.”

Sergeant Holis saluted the young man, turned and exited.

Tracy said nothing and merely raised one eyebrow at the young man with the gavel.

He gave off an exasperated sigh and pointed to Tracy’s bound wrists with that same gavel, “For pity’s sake would someone get her out of those?!”

The man from earlier in the suit jacket chuckled and stood, slowly pulling a hunting knife from his boot. He walked over to Tracy slowly, then bent and carefully cut the hose to release her. He replaced his knife and looked Tracy in the eyes, and with all sincerity said, “Sorry about that Miss.” Then he withdrew back to his seat.

Tracy took in a deep breath and nodded.

“We’re genuinely disgusted by what happened to you and your companions in Effingham. One of our long range seismic sensors picked up that there was vehicle activity on the highway, so we sent an extraction team to make contact. They were supposed to INVITE you in if you weren’t infected.” The young man continued. “My name is Kevin Tran, this is Mike Humbolt, Marjorie Willis, Maggie Lam, Rhahawa Mntunbe, Charlie Bradbury, Steve Andersen, Nita Binhaggia, Vin Cho, Theresa Winters, Shawna Little and Thib Nataya. We are Champaign-Urbana’s Council of Twelve and we govern this city of survivors.”

Tracy stood up carefully and resisted the urge to rub her fingers against her opposite hand’s wrist. “Tracy Copeland, from Colorado Springs, Colorado.” She dipped her head a bit then looked Kevin Tran straight in the eye, “Where are the people I was traveling with?”

Kevin looked uncomfortable a moment, and hesitated. He took in a deep breath and his eyes darted to his other council members.

The redhead, Charlie Bradbury, stood up and planted one hand on her hip. “C’mon Kev. This secrecy isn’t us. Tell her.” She urged.

“It’ll be best if I do the explaining from this point on Charlie.” A voice came from behind Tracy, and she turned around. It came from a woman with dark hair and large knowing dark eyes that currently stood in the doorway. Beside her was a somewhat scruffy looking man with unkempt curly hair and balefully tired blue eyes. He was dressed much like Dean had been; worn canvas jacket, jeans that had seen better days.

The dark eyed woman, moved up to stand beside Tracy. She turned and placed her full unwavering gaze right into Tracy’s eyes and simply stayed there a long moment, as if reading Tracy in every way. Tracy caught an unsure breath in her throat as the woman continued to silently study her. The rest of the room seemed happy to patiently wait on what this woman would say next.

Finally the woman gave off a small hum, then turned to the tired looking man and reached out her hand to him, “Chuck dear, come here and have a seat.” The man did as he was asked. Then the woman turned to look at the Council. “Y’all talk to Chuck here. He has a few things you’ll need to hear. But don’t wear him out. I filled his belly with my gumbo and he’ll be going into a food coma soon for sure.”

She patted Chuck gently on the shoulder, and said to him, “Don’t you worry, these are good people. Just tell them what you told me about the roses and the angel ball, and don’t hold nuthin’ back.”

Chuck took in a deep breath and nodded, then gave the woman a small reassuring smile. Once she saw that, she tucked her arm gently around Tracy’s and led her from the room, bending in to whisper once they were in the hallway beyond.

“You really love that boy don’t you Tracy?” She said softly.

Tracy jerked to a stop and nearly pulled her arm away, “Wh…what?! That guy? I’ve never even seen him before…..No. That’s not…. wait, who??”

“Don’t play with me Tracy Copeland. You love Sam Winchester. It’s all over your soul. All over your head and your heart. I know you’ve been lied to in the past darlin’, you’ve been hurt somethin’ bad. But Sam’s different.” The woman brought her hands up to rest ever so tenderly against Tracy’s cheeks. “He’s had his heart broken more than his fair amount. You’ve got to trust in him, in his love and in your own young lady.” She let her hands fall to her sides.

Tracy just blinked rapidly and tried to catch her breath, “How…..”

The woman resumed linking their arms and returned to guiding Tracy down the long hall they were in. She gave a light pat to Tracy’s arm with her other hand, “It’s a gift I have. Now, let’s go see Sam, and Dean. I can’t wait to see them gain, and I’ve been lookin’ forward to meetin’ this Castiel fellow too…..”

“You know Sam, and Dean?” Tracy asked.

“Oh of course. Since they were younger. Knew their Daddy too. Wasn’t sure I would ever see them again, yet here we all are.” The woman gave Tracy a warm smile.

“May I ask your name?” Tracy looked at the woman out of the corner of her eye.

“I think you know it already sweetie. I think Sam told it to you when he told you all about him and his brother and their lives.” The woman let a warm chuckle dance out of her smiling lips.

Tracy took in another deep breath, “Well then…. it’s nice to meet you Miss Mosley.”

“Oh child, call me Missouri…..”

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	13. Chapter 13

  


 

**Chapter 13**

**Champaign-Urbana, IL.**

 

If the cinder block wall or the cement floor was cold against his body, Dean didn’t take notice. If his limbs were cramping or falling asleep from the awkward position he was in, he also didn’t notice. Currently Dean’s forehead was pressed against the cinder block wall above and to the left of the hole that connected his cell to Castiel’s. Dean’s right hand was crammed as far into the hole as it would fit, and his fingers were tangled lightly around the thin cord of the Walkman’s headphones as it dangled out into the other cell. The other end, the headphone end, was resting next to Dean’s leg. Dean was seated, cross-legged, his knees pressed hard against the wall and his bare ass was planted against the floor. The hospital gown he wore was slightly too big and he could have easily wrapped it round himself to sit on, but he didn’t care.

Sam was safe, and sleeping soundly across the small hallway in another cell. But Castiel….

Castiel was curled up on his bunk, facing away from Dean. Shoulders curled forward and knees drawn up, Cas had purposely turned away from Dean earlier. And now Dean couldn’t get the ex-angel to come back or even acknowledge he was there. And it ate at him.

“Cas….” Dean kept calling softly, his voice raspy and dry, “C’mon Cas, come back. Talk to me… Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

Castiel remained unmoving.

Dean flexed his hand in the hole, moving it as much as he could. “Cas…. Cas please….” Dean tugged again on the headphone cord and he heard the sound of plastic dragging against the cement on Castiel’s side. “Cas. Cas talk to me…”

Nothing.

“Cas!! C’ome on! Stop this!” Dean half barked, half whined. When there was still no answer he jerked hard on the headphone cord and heard the Walkman clatter against the wall on Castiel’s side.

Frustrated and wanting take it out on something, to smash something, Dean pulled and jerked and wrangled the Walkman through the hole over onto his side. He gripped the machine tight into his hands and he was about to lob it across his cell when something on it caught his eye. He paused. The breath he had been holding exhaled out in a frustrated grunt.

Carefully he turned the thing over in his hands, so that the Walkman would be illuminated better in the low light coming from the one lone window in the cell. All over the back of the Walkman were stickers. Little glitter lightning bolts. An AC/DC sticker. A sparkly pineapple sticker. A ‘Hello My Name Is’ nametag with “Inigo Montoya… you killed my father. Prepare to die” written in the white space. But what had caught his eye were the two angel wing stickers. One was lying over the corner of the ‘Hello My Name Is’ sticker, while the other wrapped around the underside of the Walkman. The wings were silver and glittery, almost holographic. They were worn down and their edges were fraying, peeling up.

And the more Dean looked at them, the more he could feel his heart searing in his chest. Every second that feeling burned deeper, with every breath he inhaled it ran riot through his chest. Those stupid wing stickers, once probably glorious and shiny, now beat up by use. But not abuse. No this small out of date machine was well loved. Kept close. The places where the wing stickers were thin were where a thumb might stroke along the edge in thoughtfulness, where a finger would tap out a beat. No wonder Castiel had taken to the thing. Found comfort with it. Solace. It was just like Castiel. Once brilliant, top of the line, perfect in visage. Now used and worn by the world, frayed at the edges, imperfect.

But still cared for.

He tossed the Walkman lightly onto his cot and fell to his knees. He pushed both hands into the hole, only managing to squeeze all his fingers through. He gripped tightly there as best as he could as his head fell to rest on his wrists. He was shaking now, his breath tattered.

Castiel. His angel. Beaten down by the apocalypse, by Dean’s anger, his loss.

His heart scorched the inside of his chest. It beat hard, wild. It thrashed. Dean found that his breath was gulping out in gasps as it overwhelmed him. What flared up in the next second nearly undid Dean.

So much guilt.

“Cas…. Cas I’m so sorry. So sorry…” Dean choked out, “I never…. I never should have done that to you. Pushed you away. I said so many awful things. I did so many awful things. Please Cas, I’m so sorry…..” He flexed his fingers against the edge of the hole, as if he could tear away the wall that separated he and Cas. “You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t. You’ve been there for me, for so long, through so much….I’m so sorry….”

Dean grit his teeth and sucked in a hard breath before letting it out in a rush. His eyes were squeezed shut tight. “Cas…. Please I’m sorry….” A deep shiver wracked through Dean, deep down to his bones.

“Cas… please….” Dean begged softly, his voice barely there now. “Cas…. I need you.”

The first light touch on his fingers from the other side of the wall almost made Dean jerk away in shock. Castiel’s cool fingers were stroking over where the tips of Dean’s fingers and his top knuckles edged out of the hole. Dean’s breath still hiccupped out, and his body was still trembling, but he held fast and didn’t move.

Cas continued to trace the pads of his fingers over what little skin Dean had exposed there. “Shhh….” Castiel whispered and then Dean felt Cas pull his touch away. For a single heartbeat Dean nearly screamed for Cas to come back, not to turn away. But before he could get the sound out of his mouth, where Castiel’s fingertips had been were now replaced with Castiel’s lips.

Light soft brief pecks dotted over the tips of Dean’s fingers. Over and over and over, as if counting off some unsaid payment or debit. Dean held still and Cas just continued.

Finally Castiel stopped, “Dean, this is awkward.”

“Cas?” Dean asked and it came out shaky.

“Sitting like this. You can’t be even remotely comfortable.” Castiel’s usually flat tone echoed slightly against the walls.

“Cas I don’t care.” Dean withdrew one hand so the other could slip further into the hole to Castiel.

Cas instantly weaved his fingers with Dean’s and they clasped together as if they had been doing it their whole lives. They both sat that way for a long moment, neither moving, just breathing. Both with their foreheads pressed to their side of the wall.

Then Cas took in a deep breath, squeezed Dean’s fingers with his and simply said, “Hello Dean.”

An incredulous laugh broke out of Dean at that, and it echoed sharp against the cell walls before he said with a small chuckle, “Hey Cas.”

 

\------------------------------------------------------

 

Dean and Cas were still sitting there ten minutes later. Neither had spoken, somehow just the simple touching of their entwined hands had said enough then.

Finally Dean broke their silence, “Things are going to be different now Cas, I promise. I’m gonna get you out of here….”

“Oh really? Because from here it looks like I’ve got a key and all you’ve got….” A muffled female voice came from the other side of the Plexiglas wall.

Dean snapped his head around to see Tracy standing there, a key card held up between two fingers, her brows held just as high on her forehead and her eyes peering at the back of his hospital open gown.

“All you’ve got is a cute bare tush Dean.” Tracy smirked.

Dean and Castiel broke apart and both moved up to the Plexiglas wall quickly. Dean, used one hand to pull his hospital gown tightly around him to cover himself, and glowered at Tracy. Cas simply smiled at her.

“Hello Tracy.” Castiel nodded, “You’re right, he does have a nice tush.”

“Hey!” Dean frowned in Cas’ direction, even if he couldn’t see him.

Tracy shrugged, “Sam’s is perkier.”

“HEY!” Dean aimed his scowl back at Tracy. “Stop that!”

Tracy waived the key card almost literally under Dean’s nose, “You want out or not Hilts? Or I am just springing Velinski and Sedgwick?”

“I don’t understand that reference….” Castiel said as he placed his hands against the Plexiglas.

“I do.” A lopsided grin came over Dean’s face, “Those are character names from a movie called ‘The Great Escape.’ It’s a Steven McQueen movie…..Where did Sam find you?”

Tracy rolled her eyes and walked over to the door to Castiel’s cell. She was about to swipe the key card and open Castiel’s door when Missouri’s voice rang out against the cell walls.

“Tracy Louise Copeland, what on earth are you doing?”

Tracy stopped and looked confused as she turned back to Missouri standing at the hallway entrance. “Uh, letting them out? Isn’t that why we came down here?”

“We came down here to check on them, and so you could see they were safe. Where did you get that key card?” Missouri lifted one brow and then extended her hand out for the key card.

Tracy backed up, holding the keycard close to her chest. “It was on the wall, in the entry room there, in the little file boxes…..”

Dean spoke up then, his hands pressed against the Plexiglas. “Miss Mosley, you are a real sight for sore eyes, and please, I don’t mean to be disrespectful…. But if this was really you, you wouldn’t leave us in here.”

“No?” Missouri walked in and stood in front of Dean’s cell now. “You and Sam, you didn’t mean to bring on the end of the world but you did it anyway. And now we’ve got the Croatoan virus reducing the planet’s population by more than half.” Dean winced and his face grew grim. Missouri continued, “And Sam there, once had the Morning Star residing within him. And said archangel may very well be hunting for him right now.” Missouri let her eyes roam up and around the cell Dean was in. “Boy do you know where you are right now?”

“In deep shit somewhere in Illinois. As usual.” Dean deadpanned.

Missouri frowned at him, “This facility was once the center for research for some of the brightest minds in the United States. Then six years ago when all the supernatural elements came bubbling to the surface, this level of this building was modified, redesigned to house and study creatures like vampires, werewolves, shape shifters.” She gestured to the walls, the ceiling, the sealed doors, “When the Croatoan virus hit, the people at this university were prepared. They survived. Created a community for themselves.” She paused and looked over at Castiel. “Several weeks ago they caught a distress radio broadcast from Pontiac, Illinois”

Castiel’s eye went wide and he pressed against the Plexiglas. His breath was coming is short hot bursts, fogging the glass lightly.

“The small group of survivors there were under siege from thousands of Croatoans. The group from here in Champaign mounted a rescue. Saved everyone they could, brought them here. But you know what else they found?” Missouri paused.

Tracy found her hands trembling slightly as she gripped hard to the key card. Castiel looked away but Dean pressed harder against the Plexiglas, his face hard and cold.

“A group of Angels. Pure in their grace and without vessels. The reason the Croatoan were there. They were trying to get to the Angels.” Missouri turned back to Dean. “Those Angels are here now, and the Croatoan swarm our northern borders. It’s a killing field up there. We have half our community there, working rotating shifts just trying to keep them out of our city.” She gestures gently to Sam now, still unconscious, “And unknowingly now Lucifer’s prime vessel is brought here?”

Missouri turned to Dean then, her eyes sad and worried, “It’s warded down here. Warded against demons, angels, everything. Sam has to stay here until we can figure this out. He’s safer down here. We all are.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, to protest but Missouri raised her finger to silence him, “And you’re staying here too. You and Castiel. If we let you out then you’ll try to free Sam.”

“Damn right I will.” Dean barked out angrily.

Missouri simply shook her head. “I’ll have clothing brought to you, and better bedding. Food and water.” She walked over then and plucked the keycard out of Tracy’s hands, “Tracy you can come here and visit them but you can’t let them out. I’ll get you a room of your own and more clothing.”

Tracy blinked once, her face blank. “Sam isn’t waking up because you all drugged him didn’t you?”

Missouri sighed, “I know you don’t understand darlin’, but this is for Sam’s safety. For everyone’s.” She glanced at Castiel who had gone to sit on his cot, then at Dean who was glaring daggers at her through the Plexiglas. Then she turned and walked out into the room beyond.

When she was gone Tracy moved up to Dean’s cell. “We’re four floors below ground here. Those aren’t even real windows.” She whispered to him, then she glanced at Sam before turning back to Dean. She reached into the side waste band of her torn up cargo pants and let the edge of a second key card peek out. Dean saw it and his eyes flashed back up to Tracy’s. Tracy whispered again, “Let them bring you clothes. I’ll find out what they used on Sam….” She gave a worried look out to where Missouri waited for her. “No doubt she knows I’ll try to spring you.”

When she looked back at Dean her dark eyes were pleading, “I’ll get you out. Just like I got Sam out before.”

“I promise.”

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria
> 
> Graphics for this chapter by http://alastairss.tumblr.com/


	14. Chapter 14

****

 

**Chapter 14**

**Champaign-Urbana, IL**

The room was your standard motel room. Two double beds, plain non-descript furnishings that looked like they were trendy in the 1990s, and a patterned carpet that Tracy swore would have given her a headache if her mind wasn’t already occupied.

On the dresser sat the remainder of her, Sam and Castiel’s gear along with several new sets of fresh clothing for her. A twenty-seven inch TV sat unused on a console along the wall under a dull print of some watercolor splatter flowers. Toiletries like shampoo, soap, conditioner, body lotion, and so forth cluttered the bathroom sink counter in the adjacent room. There was a flushing toilet and a shower with hot water and a sink and a toothbrush and a full freshly opened tube of toothpaste.

But after initially cleaning up and changing into clothing without holes in them, Tracy couldn’t take comfort or enjoyment in any of it knowing that Sam was underground nearby, being kept unconscious, fed intravenously and hooked to a catheter again.

When the realization hit her how these people were going to keep Sam down so he wouldn’t leave and be found by Lucifer, she had thrown up.

Now her small hands were fisted into the fabric of the plain beige heavy curtains in front of the window in the room. Her forehead was pressed to the glass and her eyes were closed, scrunched tight as she kept going over things in her head.

Since they had brought her, Sam, Dean, Chuck and Castiel here, they had kept the brothers and the former angel in lock down underground in the Beckman Building, one of the large former University buildings that had been repurposed by those living here now. She and Chuck were given rooms in some three story bland former Hampton Inn across the street and down the block, but they had been kept in their rooms and hadn’t been allowed to speak to each other.

It had been a day and a half since she had spoken to Dean and seen Sam and Cas in their cells. Twenty-four hours since she had last seen Missouri and it had been nearly two days since….

A pained sigh pushed out of Tracy and she gripped tighter to the curtains. Two days since she had been in Sam’s arms, with Sam’s hands on her, Sam’s mouth on hers, his body moving with hers. She could hear the sounds he had made playing in her head, how he said her name ever so softly after. Color rushed into her cheeks, but the ache in her heart was by far hotter.

She sucked in a gulp of air and pushed all of it out of her head. Instead she replayed the memory of walking down to the cells, remembering which doors were used, which elevator, which stairs. She mentally reviewed the doors they used when they escorted her out, what path they took from the building, what buildings were around them, what security precautions. She counted off the number of people she saw that had military gear with them and where they were standing. She went over it all, again, and again and again. Hard coding it into her brain so when the time came she could just run and not second-guess where she was headed.

One hand released the curtains and Tracy leaned over, her hand diving into the thick socks she wore to feel where she had kept the stolen key card tucked away. It bit into the side of her ankle a little, but the sensation comforted her. Told her there was a still a way out of this.

When there was a knock at the door, she straightened up before they entered. Someone brought her food regularly and she would pick at it a little, but then she would send him or her off without really eating anything. She knew she should eat, to keep her mind clear and her body ready to run but she just hadn’t felt hungry. Part of it was fear they would drug her too, and part of it was that she felt guilty for being up here in this comfortable room when the rest of her world was down in some underground prison.

She let out a small sour sound then, reminiscing how not too long ago her whole world was just her and how that had been okay then, but it was far from okay now.

“Hurts, huh?” A tentative somewhat nervous voice asked. “Not being with your family…..”

Tracy looked back into the room, startled. Standing there holding her dinner tray was the red headed woman, the Council member Charlie Bradbury. Standing beside her was Kevin Tran. Kevin carefully closed the door while Charlie placed the tray of food down on the small round table next to Tracy.

For Tracy’s part, she just glared at them both and said nothing.

Charlie began to fidget with her hands now that they were empty and she looked back at Kevin as if seeking his support. He nodded and came to stand near, his eyes never leaving Tracy’s.

“I was told I could go and visit Sam. Why did you lie to me?” Tracy couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

“We didn’t!” Charlie defended, wide eyed, pleading. “We didn’t lie. But the zombies..”

“Croatoan.” Kevin corrected her.

“The Croatoan have…. Well there’s a LOT more of them now and they are really coming at us on our defenses and this is just standard operating procedure when we are getting swarmed and we only did it to keep you safe and….” Charlie fluttered her hands up and sucked in another breath before she kept going, “Missouri says the Croats are attracted to the angels on the Quad and they are drawn to them somehow and she’s afraid that Sam and Castiel will want to help the angels and that Dean will do something crazy and stupid and put everyone in danger and well, she knows you are going to try to get them out of there so we couldn’t…”

Kevin gave Charlie a swift but light backhanded swat against her arm coupled with a hard look scolding her for saying too much too soon.

Tracy folded her arms and turned her back to them. “So Missouri knows what I was planning?”

“She’s really good at reading people. Says she can see energies and such around people and they give her a road map on their intentions.” Kevin offered. Then he shifted his feet and shoved his hands into his jean pockets, “Look, Charlie and I, and a few others on the Council don’t like keeping prisoners. We don’t care about the reason why. Most folks here are just scared and freaked out. They are making poor judgment calls right now….”

“And yea, maybe letting the boy who set Lucifer free in the first place out to roam around where there is a high concentration of angel mojo might not be the smartest thing to do….but….” Charlie continued, “It’s the humane thing. Keeping Sam and Dean and Castiel down there isn’t right. And it’s not what we’ve fought so hard for here.”

Tracy turned around and looked at them both then, gauging one and then the other. “So what’s your story then?”

“Huh?” Charlie crinkled her nose in confusion.

“What have you been fighting so hard for?” Tracy let her hands slip down to her sides.

“My Mom.” Kevin started, “We were here for a science and engineering symposium and to check out the campus for college prospects….when the Croatoan virus hit. Of course we didn’t know what it was then, we thought it was a zombie outbreak not the full tilt end of the world.” Kevin gave a small shrug, “My mom saved me, a bunch of times. We found ourselves hold up in the basement of the Beckman Building with a bunch of scientists, a horde of computer geeks, a handful of professors and two hunters…”

Tracy’s eyebrows went up at that.

“We survived. And when we were able to clear the building we met up with more survivors… R.O.T.C. students, military reservists, and more students. We built barricades, dug moats, repaired the power stations, and eventually started gardens and gathered live stock. It hasn’t been easy, building this community, so we are a little defensive of any threat to it.” Kevin looked at Charlie.

She gave him a little nod, then she focused back on Tracy, “But that doesn’t mean squat if we start treating each other like the monsters we are fighting. I know Missouri means well, and she’s scared this is all going to go to shit if we let the Winchesters out but…”

Charlie and Kevin traded another look and then Kevin pulled out a set of keys, offering them to Tracy. “We can’t live with ourselves knowing we’re part of that.” When Tracy simply looked at the keys and didn’t take them, Kevin rolled his eyes and jingled them out to her once more, “They’re master keys. You can get out and in of the Beckman with them.”

“No.” Tracy narrowed her eyes down at them.

“No?” Charlie blinked, astonished.

“Are you crazy? What… so I take the keys and I walk in there and unlock their cells….” Tracy tossed them one of the ‘bitch please’ faces she had seen on Sam during her time with him, ”And what then? Just saunter out carrying Sam in my arms? Have you seen the size of that man?”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie looked confused again, but this time there was an air of serious foreboding in her eyes.

“Sam is unconscious. He’s being drugged and kept down so he won’t be a beacon to Lucifer…or at least that’s what Missouri told me.” Tracy spat out. “Don’t you know that?”

Kevin and Charlie looked at each other again, this time in horror.

“Oh god, do you think that….” Charlie’s eyes went wide as she looked at Kevin.

“This is not good. This is not good!” Kevin replied.

Charlie whirled around and shoved her fingers into her hair on top of her head, “Dammit! Go to the U of I, they said. Check out the CRAY computer they said, it’s a hacker’s wet dream they said….”

“Charlie! Not now!” Kevin scolded her and then looked at Tracy, “Okay. Okay….so you remember those hunters I told you about a minute ago? Well, they were on some government payroll to bring in monsters for research. One is dead but the other has been stirring up a lot of trouble the last few months. I think he’s the one who handed down the okay to drug Sam. He’s been really tight with Missouri lately too….this is not good, this is so not good….” Kevin’s breath started to come faster, shallow, tighter.

Tracy placed both her hands gently on Kevin’s shoulders and guided him to sit down on the edge of one of the beds. Then she walked over and pulled Charlie to sit beside him. Next she turned to her old backpack, Castiel’s pack, and Sam’s duffle.

She began packing up everything as she spoke, “This is what we are going to do. I’m going to pack. Kevin, get Chuck, get him packed and get him over here. Then go get your Mom and meet us at the Beckman Building.” Tracy glanced over her shoulder at Kevin, “It’s okay. Breathe slow. You can do this….”

Kevin took in a long slow breath then stood up, nodded, placed the keys he had been holding near Tracy and then left.

“What about me? What do I do?” Charlie edged up on the bed, her hands clasped on her knees.

“You know your way around any weapons?” Tracy asked.

“I’m the freakin’ Queen of Moondoor….of course I know my way around weapons….” Charlie stood up and placed her hands on her hips.

Tracy stopped and looked at Charlie, “Moondoor?”

Charlie smiled, “It’s a live action role play thing….but, anyway, I know my way around a sword.”

“What about the guns we had in Effingham? You know your way around those too?” Tracy raised a brow.

Charlie smirked, “Do I.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, “Let me guess… My job is to go get them and come back here, arm you and Chuck and then watch your back as you blaze your way in to rescue your true love!”

“Actually, I dunno if Sam is my ‘true love’…..” Tracy dug the stolen key card out of her sock, then tucked it into the front of her bra under her shirt. The she looked at Charlie, “….but I do know you are handling point on this. I’m confident with hand to hand defensive moves but not so much with the firearms.”

Charlie moved to head out the door, but then she paused and turned back to Tracy, “Do you have any idea why someone would want to drug Sam? I mean, I get why Missouri thinks they’ll be complete terrors if they are allowed to run free… I did read Carver Edlund’s books…. But I don’t get why they would want Sam all drugged up…”

Tracy sat down and began to tug on her boots, “When I found Sam, when I first met him, he was strapped down to a chair. He was being fed through a tube and peeing through a tube, and they had him jacked hard up on…. Something.” Tracy paused and looked directly at Charlie, “Sam doesn’t know this, but it took me several days of sneaking in and slowing reducing the input of the drug on his system before I could rouse him to where he could think halfway straight. While I was hiding and sneaking around, I heard his captors talking.”

Tracy stood up, her face grim. “I didn’t understand any of it until Sam later told me his full story. The men… the demons holding him… were talking about keeping him ready for Lucifer to return. They said it would be easier for Lucifer to retake possession of Sam’s body if Sam were drugged and not as cognizant. That Lucifer could gain Sam’s acceptance easier that way since Sam had said yes once already.” Tracy took in a deep breath, “I didn’t make the connection until just now. Whoever this hunter is, I think he’s setting it up for Lucifer to find Sam, take Sam, take the angels and use the Croats to wipe your nice little community off the map.”

“And then Lucifer’ll finish what he started.” Charlie said weakly, the fear edging up into her eyes.

Tracy began to wind her hair up into a tufted twist on the back of her head. She clasped her hair clip in place, then winked at Charlie and with a smirk said, “Hon, not if we get to Sam first.”

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	15. Chapter 15

****

 

**Chapter 15**

The grass beneath Sam’s feet was so soft he couldn’t help but wiggle his toes, scrunching them down deep into the lush green blades. He knew he was dreaming because when he moved to step, to push his foot through more of the cushy grass, he sort of floated and bounced like he remembered astronauts doing when they walked on the moon. He was barefoot, but dressed only in loose white pants. He could feel his hair moving and floating off his forehead, as if there was a wind there that he wasn’t aware of.

When he looked up from the grass, he saw there were rose bushes all around him.

White, red, peach, yellow, pale lavender, cream…. Hundreds of different colors and hues of roses everywhere he looked. He reached a hand out and ran the tip of his finger against a nearby petal. It felt as velvety as it looked.

“Hello Sam.”

Sam jerked and turned at the voice, his voice, coming from his left.

Sam saw himself standing nearby. He was wearing a pristine white suit and white shoes. His hair was combed and tucked neatly behind his ears. His other self reached out and plucked a single red rosebud from a bush and brought it to his nose with a contented smile.

“Nice to see you again Sam.” The other Sam said. His voice was too smooth, too placid.

“You.” Sam dug his toes deeper into the grass as his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

The other Sam sighed as if he was bored. “Yes me Sam. It’s always going to be me. Haven’t you given up by now? You told me yes once already. Are we really going to play this tiresome game again?” The other Sam, Lucifer in Sam’s own visage, rolled his eyes and gently brought the rosebud to stroke against his own cheek.

Sam narrowed his eyes and just took a moment to look at Lucifer. Then at length he asked, “If you are so sure of yourself, how about answering some questions for me?”

Lucifer’s brows rose at that and he smiled, “Why not. It might be fun.”

Sam gave a small nod, “Lets start with something easy. Why did you leave me, your vessel, in the first place?”

Lucifer made a ‘fair enough’ sort of expression with his face, “I’d been holed up in the Cage for a millennia Sam. As awesome as it is being inside your spectacular physique, I needed to get out and stretch a little. Breathe out in my true form. Stretch my wings. Enjoy being a multidimensional wavelength of light again for a brief moment.”

“And you thought I’d be safe, drugged up and pliant, waiting for your return.” Sam remained expressionless.

“I actually did. I knew Dean was too busy and had no idea where you were. Castiel’s wings were clipped. There was no one around to save you. I thought that you’d keep just fine where I left you.” Lucifer shrugged.

“But there was someone around to save me after all.” Sam couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept into the corner of his mouth.

“Yea. Didn’t see that coming.” Lucifer frowned then and looked genuinely puzzled. “I mean, seriously. Of all the people that could have stumbled on you…. An ex-electrical engineer with a history of chemical science in her background and unafraid to help some naked guy strapped to a chair… what do you think the odds are of that Sam?”

Sam didn’t reply to that and instead let his smile come out. “Let’s talk about Castiel and the angels now.”

“You’re trying to deflect me from talking about little Tracy Copeland, your savior. Believe me Sam, I’ve done nothing but think about her since I saw her scoop you up and carry you off. I could talk for hours about her.” Lucifer’s voice took a bit of an edge to it. “I can’t wait to meet her wearing your face.”

In his gut, Sam felt a hot knot twist up. His instant reaction was to blurt out to leave Tracy alone, to threaten Lucifer to stay away from her. Instead he swallowed it all down and simply gave a light shrug. He knew Lucifer was baiting him and he wanted to deny the archangel the fun. He rested his hands loose and easy against his hips and looked away from Lucifer, out over the rose bushes. “It’s interesting…. Before when angels had contact with humans, we’d get our eyes burnt out. But now they float around like harmless wisps. Any idea why that is?”

“Ugh, Sam. You’re not being any fun.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Of course I know why. It’s very simple. They are cut off from Heaven and aren’t accessing their true forms. What you see is their Grace. An echo of themselves. They could still take vessels and be pretty formidable, but on their own like they are now….” Lucifer waved a hand in a dismissive manner, “Harmless.”

Sam nodded, his eyes still roaming over the rose bushes, “And the Croats?”

“Eugh, such a vulgar nick name. It’s ‘Croatoan’.” Lucifer scoffed.

“Whatever.” It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Why are they all coming to Illinois?”

“Oh that!” Lucifer chuckled now, “They can hear the angels talking to each other. Drives them a little nutty. I supposed they are just trying to reach the angels and silence them.” Lucifer brought the rose bud he held to his nose and looked over the edges of its petals at Sam, “Anything else Sam? I have a few questions of my own.”

“I don’t suppose you’d tell me where the Four Horseman’s rings are?” Sam quipped.

Lucifer lazily flung the rose bud away and let it sail out in the air, “Returned to their owners…. Who by the way, are completely in my thrall now. So good luck with that Sam.”

Sam flicked his brows up and gave a small shrug, “Had to ask.”

Lucifer gave a playful pout, “I know. You’re so adorable trying to still win a war that is lost and over.” Then he smiled, beautiful and gentle and sweet. “Ready to let me back in now Sam?”

Sam sighed. He brought his arms out as if offering Lucifer a hug, then kept pulling them wider away and out to the sides of his body, “Nope.” He returned Lucifer’s smile.

“I see.” Lucifer nodded. He took one step in Sam’s direction, and shifted. Suddenly he didn’t look like Sam any longer. He looked….. like Dean. Dean’s green eyes, freckled face and broad shoulders, still wearing the white suit and the white shoes. Lucifer as Dean rolled his shoulders a little and grinned a cocky crooked smile. “What about Dean? I’m sure if I asked him to be my vessel instead of you, he’d take me in a heartbeat. Anything to save his precious Sammy.”

Sam balked, that knot cinching in his gut again. “You can’t. You can’t use Dean as a vessel.”

“Yes… he was made for Michael. But Mikey isn’t around anymore and Dean’s still built for an archangel. He’s not perfect… like you. But he’d do in a pinch.” Lucifer smoothed his hands down the front lapels of his suit, then looked at Sam. And winked.

Sam took a half step back, “Dean would never tell you yes. After all this, after everything…..”

“No? You don’t think so?” Lucifer was suddenly standing a few inches away, Dean’s bright green eyes dancing as he looked at Sam. “I bet I wouldn’t even need to bother with the sales pitch. I bet…. All I would need to say is ‘Let me in and I leave Sam alone’ and Dean would be on his knees…. Begging me….to take him. I bet he’s beside himself, waiting for you to wake up, waiting to get his little brother back….”

Lucifer slipped slowly around to Sam’s right side, “Dean has sacrificed himself for you… how many times? Do you really think this would be any different?”

Sam said nothing, and instead looked down to his toes. The grass was still soft but now Sam felt as if he was going to vomit.

Lucifer slithered around behind Sam, and renewed his appearance to look like Sam once more. He snaked one arm around Sam, bringing it to place his hand on Sam’s bare chest. Lucifer splayed out his fingers and gentle as a lover, stroked his palm down across Sam’s stomach.

“Just say yes again Sam. It’ll be easier on everyone.” Lucifer whispered, “I’ll leave Dean alone, and Castiel. And that old coot Bobby. Let them keep fighting the good fight. I won’t touch them.” Lucifer pulled Sam back flush against him.

“What about Tracy?” Sam closed his eyes, let himself lean back against Lucifer.

“I should punish her for taking you away from me…..” Lucifer nuzzled his nose against Sam’s ear, “But you love her…. Really love her. Surprisingly. So I won’t hurt her.” Lucifer then skimmed his hand down under the waistband of Sam’s pants and let his fingers trace along Sam’s hipbone, “Maybe we can both enjoy her, together…..”

Sam said nothing at first, and realized that he was calm. He knew what he needed to do and he hoped Dean would forgive him. Hoped Tracy would understand.

Sam’s mouth was cakey and rancid as he opened his mouth, “My answer is….”

 

 

 

“yeuuuch…..” Sam was vomiting. He was bent over and the watery contents of his stomach was heaving violently up through his throat and out of his mouth. The bile and water spattered on a cement floor. Sam brought his head up groggily. Hands were holding him up on the edge of a cot, keeping him from falling over onto his face. Strong hands. Firm hands. Gentle hands. Dean’s hands.

“Sam… Sam look at me honey….” Tracy’s voice was sweet and soothing as she knelt in front of Sam now.

Sam lifted his head a little more and Tracy’s relieved and smiling face came into view. He tried to talk but his tongue felt three sizes too big and disgusting drool was sliding over his lips and down his chin.

Tracy held a damp cloth and she began to tenderly wipe Sam’s face clean, “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re fine. They had you drugged and we gave you something to counter it. The upset stomach is a side affect. Dean’s going to help haul you out of here.” She placed a kiss to Sam’s temple and then gave a wry chuckle, “Not quite like last time though huh?”

Sam looked at her and gave up a lopsided smile, “Not naked.”

“He was naked when you found him that other time?!” Dean’s voice came rough from behind Sam, the worry in his voice obvious.

Tracy smirked, but her eyes were on Sam, “I think it’s a shame when he has to wear clothes….” In reply to her, Sam gave off a weak chuckle.

“Okay okay…” Dean hoisted Sam to his feet, “Flirt later you two.” Dean situated Sam’s arm around his neck, while Dean’s other arm came up across Sam’s back and under Sam’s arm to hold firm around Sam’s torso.

Sam glanced down to see he was wearing jeans, socks and a long sleeve t-shirt. Dean was dressed the same and held him firm as Tracy knelt down wrangled boots onto Sam’s feet. Sam took a moment to look around at where he was. The three of them were in a weird cinder block cell that had one thick Plexiglas wall. The submarine like door in it was open and Sam could see other cells like it beyond. Sam looked over at Dean as Tracy got the boots laced up.

“Dean…..?” Sam looked half worried, half relieved.

Softly, his voice nearly breaking, Dean said, “Hey Sammy. Nice to have you back.”

“I missed you Dean.” Sam could feel his eyes starting to sting.

“I missed you too Sasquatch.” Dean smiled and tugged Sam closer.

“Are we ready to roll?” A new voice Sam had never heard before was now coming from the open cell door. Sam looked up to see a young man with dark hair and dark eyes leaning in through the doorway.

“Who’s that?” Sam frowned.

“Kevin Tran, advanced placement…” Tracy stood up, “Meet Sam Winchester, epic hero of the world.”

Kevin looked Sam up and down, “Riiiight…..” then he put his attention on Dean. “Castiel says the elevator is coming down.” Then Kevin was gone, moving back out of the cell area.

Tracy and Sam traded a quick look before she followed Kevin out. Dean shifted his hold on Sam and then began to walk out of the cell with Sam leaning on him, past the door, and out the main entry door to the cell area. The room beyond was a large laboratory with numerous tables and stations, as well as several exam and dissection tables.

“What is this place?” Sam made a sour face.

“Bunch of scientists were capturing supernatural creatures and doing experiments on them. Then the end of the world happened and they all fled, then survivors found this place and decided it made a good lock up for Croat infected. After they took us down in Effingham, they stuck us here.” Dean smirked and threw Sam a sideways look of amusement, “And now your girlfriend is helping me and you and Cas bust out.”

Once through the lab they found themselves in a smaller office area. Tracy was waiting for them at the open door along the far wall, and now she was armed with the Glock Sam had taken from the pawnshop back in Baton Rouge. Seeing them heading her way, she went out of the door and into the hallway beyond.

Dean paused and regained his hold on Sam now that Sam was starting to be able to hold more of his own weight. He gave a snarky smile to Sam and said, “I can’t believe you. You aren’t free from that dickbag archangel for two seconds and you’ve managed to hook up with freakin’ Lara Croft. How come I never have a girlfriend who comes and rescues me?”

Sam grinned at Dean, “Maybe because your boyfriend is too busy gripping you tight and raising you from perdition?”

Dean’s retort died on his lips when they swung out of the door and into the hallway. The hall was wide and sterile like a hospital, with multiple doors lining either side. At the end was a bank of two elevators.

In between Sam and Dean and those elevators, Tracy waited with the gun resting close to her hip. Beside her Castiel held two guns in hand and he gave a small smile to both brothers when he met their eyes. Nearby Charlie was ready, also armed, and Kevin held a walkie-talkie. Chuck was there as well, his own gun held loose and low.

“Kevin assures us that his mother is waiting outside with a vehicle for us.” Castiel looked at Sam, and Sam noticed that Tracy’s Walkman headphones were now resting around Castiel’s neck. “We need to take the stairs at the other end of the corridor. The elevators are unresponsive.”

Just as Castiel uttered those words, one of the elevator’s “pinged” and its doors began to open. Tracy, Charlie, Castiel and Chuck all turned and raised their guns.

The doors fully opened and Missouri Mosley stepped out with a man following behind her. The two of them stopped short seeing the guns leveled in their direction.

Castiel took one-step forward, gun still up, trained more on the man than on Missouri. “We’re leaving.” Cas’ voice was flat, commanding.

“I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere.” Missouri said, “And I don’t think those guns will be doing you much good either.” Missouri blinked, as did the man behind her, and both their eyes flicked into solid oily black.

“Demons….” Castiel’s eyes went wider.

“Miss Mosley…. No….” Dean said, his face sorrowful.

“Not your nice Missouri Mosley anymore… the initials are right though.” Missouri grinned and wagged her eyebrows a little.

“Oh my god…. It’s Meg!” Sam gasped out.

Meg Masters inside of Missouri Mosley gave Sam a big playful smile, “Right on the nosey. Ten points for the True Vessel of Lucifer.”

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	16. Chapter 16

****

 

 

 

**Chapter 16**

 

 

Tracy recognized that name. She remembered it from when Sam had been telling her about everything that had happened to he and Dean before Sam had said yes to Lucifer. It was the name of one of the demons that had been instrumental in Lucifer rising and getting Sam to where he would be the perfect vessel. Meg had even possessed Sam herself once.

Tracy blinked once slowly as she let that sink in. That demon had been inside Sam, but she wasn’t any longer. There were ways of getting demons out of their host bodies. There was a way to make Meg leave Missouri’s body.

Tracy lowered her gun.

That was when Castiel’s voice growled out. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…..”

Tracy turned, eyes wide and looked at Castiel.

“What is happening?!” Kevin blurted out as Charlie gasped and stepped back, bumping into the wall behind her to retreat from Missouri and the man with her.

The man behind Missouri was choking now, his body wracking in hard jerks as his head began to fall backwards. Meg inside Missouri bent over and clasped her arms around her stomach. Her shoulders began to tremble.

“…..Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus,” Castiel continued, one gun still held up. “AUDI NOS!”

The sound of a horrific unearthly scream tore through the air and the unnamed man’s body belched forth a long stream of oily rank smelling smoke. It flushed out of his mouth and curled up against the ceiling of the corridor, then twisted snake like along its surface. The man’s body fell limp, thumping to the ground.

The screaming had stopped but the sound of it was replaced by someone’s laughter.

Meg inside Missouri straightened up and threw her head back in a long amused chortle. “You guys…. Always so predictable!” She looked at Dean and Sam, “I’ve got ways around that remember?” She grinned and let her arm slip bare from her sleeve, exposing the binding link marked on the back of her wrist. “Remember this Sam?”

Sam growled out, “That’s the same binding link you used on me, when you possessed me all those years ago….”

“And it kept me nice and cozy inside you didn’t it Sam? Blocked any chance of exorcism. It’s one of my faves…..” Missouri smiled and the expression was all Meg Masters.

“Son of a bi-….” Dean started to snap out but was cut off when the base of one of the fire extinguishers that had been mounted to the wall was suddenly connecting hard to the side of Missouri’s head. It sent Meg stumbling sideways, grasping at the wall nearby for support.

Tracy hefted the extinguisher in her hands and whipped it down on top of Meg’s head again in an over hand blow that sent the demon down flat against the floor. Heaving in a breath Tracy pivoted on her heel and looked at the others.

They were all standing there with their eyes wide and their mouths agape.

“What are you doing?! She’s still a demon in there. She won’t be down for long….” Tracy shouted, “RUN!”

Charlie and Chuck reacted at the same time, turning and fleeing down the corridor the other way towards the stair well. Charlie grabbed hold of Kevin’s jacket as she passed him, dragging him with her. Still wide-eyed, Dean held fast to Sam, hauled him around and began hustling them both behind Charlie and Kevin. Castiel began to back up, covering Sam and Dean’s retreat, his eyes never leaving Missouri’s prone form.

Tracy dropped the extinguisher and was about to turn tail to follow, when the binding link on Missouri’s wrist caught her eye. She dropped to her knees, grabbed hold of Missouri’s arm with one hand. With the other, she fished the leatherman out of the opposite pocket from where she had tucked her gun. She took in a deep breath and flipped open the leatherman to the knife part of the tool. Grimacing, she took the blade of the knife and sliced along the skin just under the binding link. The first pass only peeled off half of the link, and Tracy found her hands were trembling too hard for her to slice off the rest. Her eyes were going wide and dazed as she watched blood ooze up through the wound to pool and leak out. The leatherman tumbled from Tracy’s hand as Meg started to stir to movement.

Suddenly there was a strong arm curling around Tracy’s stomach and she was yanked up to her feet. Castiel lifted her up and then half pushed, half dragged Tracy down the corridor away from Meg.

By the time the reached the door to the stairs, Tracy was on her own feet just half a pace behind Castiel in a run. They got to the door to the stairwell, slid through it, then slammed it shut behind them. Above them the others were running up the stairs, already ahead by at least one floor. Castiel took off up the steps and Tracy followed, putting her gun back into her hand once more.

Their group made it up through the stairs and into the main lobby of the building, then outside and found themselves on the opposite side of the building from the street. On this side, a lawn of dry overgrown grass stretched away from them and in its center, a tall thin metal spire reached up towards a grey and cloudy sky. The spire was ringed by a low stone wall that peeked through the grass in several places.

Sam was on his own feet now, and the whole group paused a moment to get their bearings. Sam half turned to see where Tracy was the same moment Dean did the same looking for Castiel. They were behind Charlie, Kevin and Chuck. Castiel gave a grim look to Dean. Tracy was out of breath with her hand pressed to the center of her chest. She gave Sam an ‘I’m okay’ nod when worry filled his eyes.

Kevin’s walkie-talkie crackled to life and Kevin’s mother’s impatient voice spilled out of it, asking where they were. Kevin replied and turned away to give their details to her.

“So demons are possessing some of the people here….” Sam started.

“….and are obviously in the Team Lucifer camp.” Dean snorted.

Castiel moved to stand beside Dean. He caught Dean’s eye first, then cast his gaze out over the grassy lawn to the metal spire. “It’s made of iron.”

“Iron alloy, actually.” Charlie spoke up. “It’s a giant sun dial.”

Sam’s eyes brightened, “A sun dial?!” He turned quickly and sprinted across the lawn to the spire. Dean took off after him, and Castiel naturally followed. Chuck groaned and followed as well, Charlie half a pace behind. Tracy tugged on Kevin’s jacket and they too headed towards the spire.

When they got there, Sam was circling the spire, but his eyes were on the ground. Whatever he was looking for, Dean understood because he began to do the same. Soon they were stopping every so often to pull up grass and weeds with their bare hands. Castiel frowned at first, then looked down to the ground he was standing on. He took a half step back and then simply said, “Ah!” before he too was pulling up the plant life.

“What the heck are they doing?” Chuck whined. “Do we have time for this?”

Tracy looked down and kicked at the grass right below her feet. That’s when she saw it. An iron ring that circled the perimeter around the spire, just inside the low stone wall. The ring itself was embedded into the ground. It was about a foot wide and had marks etched into its surface. With a small gasp she cried out, “It’s an iron ring… the outer edge of the sun dial!” She looked over at Sam, “We don’t have our packs! Will this be enough without the salt or a devils trap?!”

Sam gave her an encouraging nod. “We’ll find out.”

Castiel stood straight the same time Dean, Sam and the others did as well. Cas surveyed the now uncovered and unbroken iron ring as he spoke, “Tracy sliced the binding link off Miss Mosley’s wrist. We should be able to force Meg out now.”

“GO AHEAD.” Meg using Missouri’s voice came from the edge of the iron ring. Everyone turned to find her standing just outside the ring’s edge. Her eyes were slick black and her wrist was dripping blood, specking the grass next to her. “Smoke me out. But then what will you do about THEM?!” She gestured wide around the circle at the tall grass surrounding them all.

The grass shivered and shifted in places, moving and parting. Something large and unseen was moving along the peripheral of the stone ring outside it. Several “somethings” paced and circled. There was a loud chuff of a sound, then several low feral reverberating growls. The hair on the back of everyone’s necks prickled.

Dean swallowed a shaky breath. “Hell Hounds.”

Instantly Castiel was shoulder to shoulder with Dean, half turned and nearly back to back with him. Castiel’s eyes scanned fast to the grass around them. Sam held still, but reached out his hand for Tracy. Slowly she backed over to him, slipping her hand into his.

“What… is a hell hound?!” Charlie hissed out, half in fear and half in curiosity.

Meg chuckled darkly, “They are the things that drag souls down to hell…. They’re unstoppable and they’re all mine.”

Still scanning the edge of the grass beyond the wall, Castiel said quietly to Dean, “They won’t keep out of the ring for very long….”

“Anything gets blown over the ring…..breaks it….” Dean continued where Cas left off.

Then Dean looked at Sam. They held each other’s eyes for a long moment, and then Dean gave a small nod towards the building they had just left. Sam responded by nudging his chin and shifting his eyes quickly in the direction away from the building. Castiel remained silent, and Chuck watched the brother’s unspoken communication carefully.

Tracy however, had her back to the Winchester’s silent planning. Instead she was watching Meg inside Missouri. Watched her smug body posture and how her black heinous gaze darted around the circle to all the different places the hell hounds snorts and growls came from. Watched how Meg’s sour grin curled Missouri’s mouth into a mockery of a smile.

Tracy’s eyes darted to Charlie’s frightened ones, and then her sight landed to the look on Kevin’s wholly terrified face. She inhaled deeply and squeezed Sam’s hand.

They were cornered. Even if they could pull Meg out of Missouri, they would still need to run for shelter. And how long would that even hold against these beasts from hell? Would Dean or Castiel lay down their lives so everyone could escape? Would Sam? Would Sam surrender to Lucifer just to make is stop? Would they make those sacrifices?

Tracy knew in a heartbeat that they would. They would give everything to keep everyone else alive.

She gave Sam’s hand one last squeeze and then let it slip from her grasp. She drew her eyes up to the hazy overcast sky above them and drew in a deep slow breath.

Then she closed her eyes and whispered, “Ramiel. Come.”

There was a sudden and powerful burst of light and the air around the metal spire swirled hard enough to tug at the loose hems of shirts and jackets, to whip people’s hair up and away. The light grew brighter and warmer, and everyone had to duck or cover his or her eyes. There was a high sharp singing sound in their ears and then it all stopped.

Silence hovered around everyone for several heartbeats.

It broke when, Meg inside Missouri, cried out, “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” She was trembling, her superior demeanor shaken.

Surprised, Sam was looking at Dean, and Dean looked back with a confused shrug. When both brothers turned to Castiel, Cas was standing with his eyes peeled wide and his mouth open in shock. He was looking directly at Tracy.

Sam whipped around to look at her and he stumbled back when he saw her. “No… please no….. not that!”

Tracy turned coolly to regard him a moment, and then she focused on Castiel. Her eyes were bright glowing points of power and her body was held with an unusual stiffness. “Eject the demon Castiel. I will handle the hounds.” Then there was a quick rush that sounded like a mix of clothing ruffled by the wind and wings beating.

And Tracy was gone.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	17. Chapter 17

****

 

 

**Chapter 17**

 

For a moment, nothing happened.

 

Sam stood with a stunned look of disbelief on his face, his heart feeling squeezed within his chest. The air ext to him where Tracy had been standing felt icy cold with her loss. Sam tried to pull in a breath but couldn’t. His eyes fled over to Dean, for stability, to maybe get confirmation that he was dreaming somehow, that what had just happened was all in his head.

Instead he was met with Dean’s wide shocked eyes. Dean was gulping in air and flexing his empty hands and looking just as panicked as Sam felt. The brothers quickly snapped their eyes away, and went back to the situation at hand.

Chuck and Charlie were both holding guns, but not with any authority. Dean moved then, carefully relieving them of them and passing one to Sam. Around them the hounds were still circling, still pacing. Making low gurgling growls as they moved.

And Meg inside Missouri was laughing again, “Wow! That gambit sure didn’t pay off now did it? Can’t trust an angel, can you? Just when they chips are down they vanish right into thin air…. Huh Clarence?” She leveled her snarky look at Castiel.

And Castiel met her look with his face filled with determination and fury. His lips opened and everyone, including Dean, was sure Cas was going to tell her to just fuck off. Instead he squared his shoulders and said, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica……”

Meg stopped laughing and her throat choked once. Her hand shot up and covered her mouth as her black eyes went wider.

At that same moment, one of the hell hounds yelped and howled in pain. There was the sound of an animal’s body thudding against the ground, and then an explosion of wet crunching sounds. Then on the opposite side of the ring, another of the hounds let out a strangled cry that was cut short by more squelching and bone breaking sounds.

“Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare.” Castiel continued, his eyes never wavering from watching Meg.

Another hound squealed and died. Dean’s gun was up, trained in a wide arc out away at the grass as he strained to see what was happening. Charlie, Chuck and Kevin had dropped to the ground, crouching and sitting with their backs against the short low wall, huddled together.

The thick gritty black smoke that was Meg Masters was wrenching out of Missouri Mosley’s body now and dribbling down her chin and into the dry grass. And Castiel continued, taking in deep breaths to power his words. His hands were clenched in fists at his sides. “Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt…..”

Sam mirrored Dean, only keeping his attention trained to watch the opposite area. With each hound’s destruction, that icy feeling working over Sam’s skin grew. With each hound’s death cry, Sam knew it was Tracy, now with an angel inside her, riding on that tide of celestial vengeance, having become something no longer ‘Tracy’, the woman he knew. And in the back of his mind, he could feel Lucifer whispering, tempting, poking, offering to make it all better if Sam would just say ‘Yes’ again.

“Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te.” Castiel kept it up, inching closer to Meg. That emptiness within him was a gaping maw now having seen Tracy transformed. His ache for the return of his grace hammering harder inside him, worse than any twitch for a fix had ever been. He took it all out in the words he spat at Meg now, all his anger, all his pain filled the latin with a cold vehemence. “Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare.”

For one brief second Meg started to fight harder, began to pull back and withdraw into Missouri, but then Missouri’s body jerked as if it were trying to help expel the demon and push her out. Meg came pouring and streaming out, twisting up into the air with a stuttering strained scream.

“Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire te rogamus,…..” Castiel snarled out and went to the edge of the ring to stand a scant foot from Missouri as the last of Meg was ejected. “Audi nos!!”

The last of the hounds wailed out their death knoll and were silenced, and Castiel moved to catch Missouri as she collapsed to the ground. A second later and Dean was at their side, helping a weakened Missouri to her feet.

“Did you see what happened to the hounds?!” Dean called out, “Did anyone see?!” He was holding Missouri up, but his eyes were roaming the grass around them all. “I heard stuff…. Sounded like something took them out.”

“It was Ramiel.” Castiel said quietly as he brought Missouri’s face up to inspect. Her eyes were dazed but she was breathing normally.

“Ramiel?!” Dean’s expression was utter ‘what the fuck?!’ He shot a look over to Sam, “Where’s the girl?!”

Sam wouldn’t look at his brother. He kept the gun up and kept his eyes searching the area. Hope and despair warring within his expression. “Tracy’s gone.” His words were flat but just underneath there was a thin hint of pain.

“Gone?! What does that mean?!” Dean demanded, his fearless leader persona creeping out.

Chuck stood, brushing himself off, “Ramiel was the angel in my dreams, in my visions. My guess is that Tracy let it take her as a vessel to deal with the hounds.”

Dean’s eyes went to Castiel quickly, but Cas wouldn’t meet his look. Castiel kept his eyes down turned and the rims were red and burning. “Cas….?” Dean’s voice was still rough and hard, but in contrast to that his eyes echoed with worry for Cas.

Castiel shook his head a little, then met Dean’s eyes. The look on his face said ‘not now’ and ‘please let it go’. “Later….” Cas whispered.

They eased Missouri down to sit on the low stone wall, and she began to slowly come around. Chuck took a seat beside her as Dean left one hand resting on her shoulder. Nearby Sam finally lowered his gun and let out a frustrated huff of breath.

“So now what?” Kevin asked.

“We need to find the other angels…..” Sam and Castiel both said it at the same moment, and they turned somewhat startled to look at each other.

“We need to get them to disperse…. Otherwise every Croat in the North America will be running riot over this city.” Sam reached a hand up and pinched his fingers over his eyes. “The Croats are drawn to them, the angels. The infected can hear them. We need to get the angels to break up and go their separate ways.”

“That won’t be easy. They are frightened and lost, disconnected from Heaven as they are. They are banding together to take comfort from each other.” Castiel said and while his tone was restrained, more emotion leaked through his voice than he intended.

“Yea but can’t they do that out in space or something? Away from where Croats can get to them?!” Dean waved his free hand up away from him, gesturing into the air.

“They would if they could.” A new voice, yet still Tracy’s voice, made them all jump. They all turned to find her standing at the base of the metal spire in the center of the sundial. The beat up t-shirt, the boots and the cargo pants she had been wearing were gone. Instead she was dressed in a long white robe whose hood draped down her back and her hair was no longer knotted up in a messy explosion on top of her head. Instead it was undone and spilling out from under the robe’s cowl. The warm chocolate of her eyes was gone as well, replaced by bright golden glowing points.

“Ramiel.” Castiel swallowed, and the expression that washed over his face was one of loss and longing.

“The angels are held here by Lucifer’s will. They cannot leave until he allows it. And he will not allow it until he has come for what he desires.” Ramiel’s eyes landed on Sam now, and stayed there.

“No no no no no no no….. No and NO.” Dean came striding forward, placing himself first between Castiel and Ramiel, and secondly so he could stand side by side with Sam. “Not happening. Lucifer can go fuck himself.”

Ramiel looked at Dean then and one eyebrow lifted, “I see why you love this one Castiel.” Then Ramiel looked at Sam, “And I see why Tracy loves you, Sam Winchester.” But before either brother could react to that, Ramiel was walking past them to stand in front of Kevin Tran. “The demons here have been routed. Their hell hounds are vanquished. No we must focus on Lucifer.” Ramiel lifted both hands, and an old stone tablet appeared in the angel’s grasp. Ramiel offered it to Kevin, “The answer lies written here, written by the Scribe of God.”

Kevin backed away a bit, looking overwhelmed and terrified, “And what do you want me to do with it?!”

“Read it, Prophet of the Lord.” Ramiel said.

“Wait… I thought Chuck was….” Dean looked over to Chuck who was sitting there with a bewildered look on his face.

Ramiel ignored Dean and placed the tablet into Kevin’s hands. Instantly there was a loud crack and several bolts of lightning riddled the ground around Kevin and through him. His hair flew up and his eyes went bright. When his fingers curled around the tablet’s edges it was all over. Ramiel reached out a hand to steady Kevin as he blinked and gasped for breath.

“Prophet, we need to know what it says on the tablet…. About compelling an archangel whilst that angel is within a vessel.” Ramiel said gently.

Frustrated and angry, Dean stormed over to Ramiel, “Now hold on! NO ONE is doing ANYTHING until I get some answers as to what the ever lovin’ FUCK is going on around here?! First the girl is gone….”

“Tracy…..” Sam interjected.

“Yea! Tracy!” Dean gestured now to Ramiel’s vessel, Tracy’s body, “Then she comes back and you’re here! And now you’re telling us this kid is the Prophet and Chuck is just what….. demoted?! Lady… you better start explaining what is happening here!”

Castiel gently came over and rested his hand on Dean’s shoulder, “Um, Ramiel generally doesn’t identify as either a female or a male…..Just because an angel takes a certain gender as a vessel doesn’t mean….” Dean’s head snapped around to glare at Cas. Castiel nodded and then said, “I don’t think Ramiel knows why there are two Prophets, only that that tablet is The Word of God, and Kevin is the one who can read it. And it may hold an answer to how we can rid ourselves of Lucifer.”

Dean shot a look over to Sam quickly first before looking back at Cas. The steam under his collar eased off and his shoulders relaxed. His words still came out irritable however. “Well that’s just peachy!”

Kevin was pouring over the tablet now, his face frowning in concentration, “I can make out some of this but…. It’s, it’s not super clear.” Chuck stood up then and moved so he could peer over Kevin’s shoulder, then rubbed his eyes and looked again. Chuck brought one finger up and pointed to something on the tablet, and he said something quietly to Kevin. Kevin nodded and then pointed to something else on the tablet. They began to converse in low hushed tones together.

The Ramiel turned to Castiel and smiled. It was a tender expression colored with sadness, “Castiel. You have been missed dear brother.”

Castiel couldn’t meet Ramiel’s gaze and instead looked down at the toes of his boots. “You shouldn’t look on me Ramiel. I am not even a shade of what I once was.” Castiel’s voice was bitter, hollow.

“You want to believe that, so you can enjoy wallowing in self pity for the loss of your grace. But this emptiness you hold inside you is a lie Castiel. You punish yourself without need.” Ramiel reached out and brushed fingers through Castiel’s hair like a parent would to a child.

Glaring, Castiel swatted Ramiel’s hand away, “How would you know what I am feeling? What I have gone through?”

Ramiel countered by clasping Castiel’s face between both of Tracy’s hands and holding Castiel gently but firmly so they met eye to eye, “Is it so different than when Gabriel left me, made me swear to not follow, and took my whole heart with him as he vanished? Is this so different than what all we angels have been through? Seeking God’s presence and love only to be left howling into the void, alone and empty? You are without power but what does that matter when you have gained so much more!” Ramiel turned Castiel then, and made him look at Sam, “Here you have more than any of us. Here you have made a choice Castiel! You have chosen and found a real family…. “ Ramiel turned Castiel to look at Dean, and Dean’s expression grew hopeful and nervous all at once. “You have found real love. You have ten thousand times more than any angel ever had or may ever have.”

Ramiel released Cas leaving him speechless, and then walked over to stand in front of Sam. Looking up at him wearing Tracy’s face made Sam’s shoulder’s fall and his face pinch in sadness. Ramiel tilted Tracy’s head just so, as angels do and said, “To have love such as you know Castiel, such as Tracy has for Sam here, is the greatest gift our Creator ever gave us. Do not squander it.” Then Ramiel really looked at Sam, and raised one hand as if making a pledge, “Sam Winchester, I will return Tracy Copeland to you. Please do not despair. Everything will be as it should.”

Sam cast his eyes down for a moment before lifting them to meet Ramiel’s, “I really hope you’re right.”

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The music Cas has Dean listening to during their encounter:
> 
> Angel - Massive Attack  
> Link broken

****

 

 

 

**Chapter 18**

 

 

It became apparent that reading the tablet to find the information they needed to triumph over Lucifer was going to take more than just a few minutes sitting outside under a grey Illinois sky. Missouri suggested that they go to the hotel where Tracy and Chuck had been staying to regroup, put food in their bellies and to sort out their next move. At that, Ramiel had simply vanished again, fluttering off in a puff of air and the sound of flapping wings leaving Sam crestfallen.

Charlie arranged for the top fourth floor of the hotel to be opened, specifically the four large executive suites at the end of the wing. Each suite had two bedrooms and baths within it, and a connecting common room with a table, chairs and couches, as well as a kitchenette.

Dean, Sam and Castiel were set up in one suite with all their gear brought to them, and on Sam’s insistence, Tracy’s as well. After a walkie-talkie call with Kevin’s mother, Kevin and Chuck were set up in another suite to work on translating the tablet. Once everyone was settled, Charlie and Missouri left to go and meet with the remaining council.

This left the brothers and Castiel alone in the common room of their suite.

At first the three had simply stood just at the entrance of the room, looking at everything. Once the room had probably seemed posh. The TV had been new in the late 90s, the same with the décor. Now there was a layer of dust over nearly everything from disuse. To Sam and Dean however, it was a lot more luxurious than any motel they had grown up in.

Castiel was the first to move, brushing past Dean to go to one of the backpacks now on the couch. He dug through everything and pulled out a pair of jeans and his old faded blue hippie shirt. “I’m going to go and see if there is any hot water…..” was all Castiel said before he made his way through one of the bedroom doors and the room beyond it.

Dean had followed Cas with his eyes, but didn’t move until Cas had left the room. He stepped into the kitchenette and found two glasses in one cupboard. Then, feeling optimistic, he opened the small mini bar under the counter.

“Yes!” It was the sound of complete delight as Dean brought a handful of small bottles onto the counter. “Whadda ya want Sam? Looks like we’ve got vodka, gin and…. Ooooh yea…. Some decent whiskey.” Dean grinned as he poured some into one of the glasses. “How is it no one has drunk this up yet?”

Sam chuckled and wiped a hand over his tired eyes, “Probably just waiting for you to find it Dean.” He walked over to stand at the edge of the kitchenette area. When Dean handed Sam a glass filled a third of the way with the amber whiskey, Sam accepted it with a weak smile.

Dean turned, hesitating a moment before he looked up. His face was serious now and he didn’t hide his emotion. “So happy to see you Sam, you don’t know…”

Sam looked at his brother then, and his eyes softened. “I’m so sorry Dean….”

Dean cut him off with a wave of his hand. “It’s in the past. It’s all in the past. The demon blood, the Lucifer thing…. We are both to blame for all of it. We are gonna kick Lucifer’s ass now and make this all go away.”

“But Dean…” Sam started to implore.

“No, Sam. Seriously.” Dean set his glass down without drinking from it. At first his eyes lingered on the glass and then his looked up at Sam. The green was shot with grey, and Dean’s eyes were haunted, beaten. “I’ve spent the last five years driving myself into the ground, becoming a brutal inhumane thing, running rough shod over everything and everyone in my anger and my fury over what happened to you, the world, all of it. And Cas… I destroyed him, destroyed Cas, my best friend…. I….” Dean stopped, one hand came up quickly to shove away the tears that were now falling over his cheeks, “I don’t want to be that person anymore Sam. And it starts here, with you.” He pulled away his hand, and his weary eyes were rimmed red, “I’m done with what’s happened in the past. Done with it. All I care about now is that we get through this and come out the other side in one piece. I have you back. I just want to move forward now Sam. Please….”

“Dean, the things I’ve done though,” Sam looked at Dean brokenly, his lip pulled tight as he fought to keep his composure.

“Who the fuck cares what you’ve done!” Dean yelled. “I don’t. Not anymore! I’ve done just as bad, worse maybe…. But it’s over now. Over!”

Sam’s hand gripped hard to the counter edge now, and the glass hung loose in his fingers at his sides. He nodded and bit his lip as the first tear ran down one cheek.

“I know, someday, you’ll tell me everything. You’ll need to, need to get it out. You’ll tell me what it was like, what you’ve been through. Everything that happened. And I’ll listen and I won’t judge. And I’ll be there.” Dean reached out and gripped hold of Sam’s shoulder, “Right now we need to forgive each other. We need to let the past go and move on. We need to kick Lucifer’s ass into next Sunday and leave him there.” Dean voice cracked, “Life is going too fast for us to hang on to old shit. You’re my brother and I just want us to be good again.”

Sam nodded, tears coursing down his face. He let go of the counter’s edge and pulled Dean into a fierce hug, crushing them together. Dean embraced him back, arms grabbing tight around Sam.

Before Sam pulled back, very quietly he said, “I won’t let it happen again Dean. I won’t. I won’t let him in.”

“I know Sam, I know.” Dean smiled wetly as they stepped away, still facing each other. Dean took hold of his glass and raised it to Sam. Sam brought his up and clinked it against Dean’s, then they both emptied their glasses.

The brothers moved over to the gear now, and began going through what was there. Dean pulled out the demon knife, held it up and the offered it over to Sam. Sam took it with a nod, looking it over before he placed it on the table between them. They had gone through half of their inventory when Sam came across Tracy’s cassette tapes. He held on to one, and brought it up to where he could read her handwriting on the paper sleeve inside the plastic case.

Dean glanced over and then went back to sorting and counting the ammo from his pack. “Is that one of hers?”

Sam nodded and a small smile came out briefly on his face. “Yea. She said CDs were crap.” Sam smiled a little at Dean, “Sound like someone else I know?”

Dean smirked, “CDs are crap. They sound all tinfoil and harsh.” Dean paused and looked at Sam, “She seems like…..”

“She’s awesome Dean. That she found me when she did, and was able to get me out of there… I swear at first I thought she was some demon playing tricks with me, but then she passed all the tests and she just….” Sam shrugged and looked back down at the cassette. “She’s just…. ” His face went sad again. “I really understand you and Cas now.”

Dean stopped what he was doing and rested his hands flat against his thighs. He didn’t look up at Sam, “I dunno what you mean.”

Sam rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. He moved closer and began to pull a pair of jeans and one of Dean’s Henley shirts from Dean’s bag. He shoved them at his brother, forcing Dean to take them. Then Sam put a firm hand on Dean’s shoulder, “Yes you do Dean. You and Cas have been dancing around this…. thing… between you two for years. And I know you don’t want to talk about it….. so don’t. Just go in there……” Sam let go with a small shove in the direction of the room Castiel had gone in, then he went back to his own bag. He pulled out what clothes were his and walked to the other bedroom door.

“Go…” Sam encouraged when he saw Dean was still standing in the middle of the room. Then Sam went into his bedroom and shut the door.

Dean hesitated a moment before walking over to the bedroom Castiel had gone in. The door was open and he peered inside. Within was a dresser, a table and two chairs, and a large king sized bed. Dean swallowed and his cheeks colored up red, hot with a mix of apprehension and a little fear. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

The bathroom door was open and steam was slowly drifting out. The sound of water stopped, and Dean could hear movement in the bathroom. That’s when he saw all of Castiel’s clothes tossed in a heap on one of the chairs.

Dean took in a breath. He placed his clothing on the table, then sat in the other chair and removed his boots and socks. When he stood up, he found Cas standing in the doorway to the bathroom looking at him.

Castiel’s hair was damp and if possible, sticking up in even crazier angles than it ever had when he had been an angel. His cheeks were rosy from the hot water, the color accentuated by the dark soft beard on his jaw and chin, and oddly Dean noticed that the tips of Castiel’s ears were pink as well. A second later he realized that Cas was standing there with just a damp towel wrapped tight around his hips and that towel was seated just below the hard juts of Castiel’s hip bones. Warm damp tanned skin, lean muscle beneath; Dean was processing all of this visible information about Cas…. And Dean felt his brain go offline for a moment. The heat in his cheeks flared up again for entirely new reasons.

“Is everything okay Dean?” Castiel asked. He hadn’t moved from where he was standing.

“Yea, uh…. Everything is, it’s uh, it’s fine.” Dean fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Then he swallowed hard and said, “You… you don’t mind if we share… the room…. Do you?”

Castiel’s eyes flicked over to the bed, then back to Dean. His expression remained neutral however. “I don’t mind.” He came away from the door and approached his clothing. He seemingly ignored Dean as he began to fold the clothes he had on before, and sort them from the ones he had just pulled from his pack.

Dean on the other hand wouldn’t take his eyes off Castiel, even as he peeled off his shirt and dropped it in the chair he had been sitting on. Then ever so slowly he came up behind Cas, getting into Castiel’s personal space. Dean held still with a bare inch between them, Castiel half bent over smoothing a wrinkle from the shirt he had been wearing earlier. Dean raised his hands and let them hover at the sides of Cas’ hips but he did not touch.

“Cas….” Dean said it softy as he drank in the expanse of muscle that was Castiel’s back. Yet still he kept his hands held an inch or two away and didn’t make contact.

Castiel stilled.

“Cas.” Now there was a pleading hint to Dean’s voice, but his hands didn’t move away.

Slowly Cas stood up, and the action brought his bare back flush against Dean’s nude chest. Dean’s hand moved now, rising to hover along Castiel’s upper arms. Dean saw goose bumps rise up on Cas’ skin and it made Dean feel bolder. He let out a warm breath against the back of Castiel’s neck and heard Castiel’s mouth open with a small gasp.

“Did you think I was just being desperate and foolish in the cells?” Dean spoke low, nearly whispering, “Did you think that once we left there, things would go back to the way they had been? That I would still be cruel to you?”

Castiel didn’t move, but the goose bumps on his skin grew.

“I meant what I said Cas. I’m done pushing you away…..” Dean moved his mouth to hover over the skin on Castiel’s shoulders and it took every ounce of will power he had not to erase the distance and just taste. “Turn around Cas, turn around and kiss me…..” He asked huskily.

A light tiny groan came out of Cas, and he was turning then. He held onto something in his hands and it created a small barrier between them. He faced Dean and their noses bumped and their breath mingled. But Castiel held back and didn’t kiss Dean.

Instead his eyes came to lock with Dean’s. The heat there, the longing, the want, all of it in Castiel’s eyes made Dean’s insides go molten and his stomach knot up in excitement. Cas opened his mouth to speak but the words seemed to catch inside him. They weren’t touching, even now, but the spaces between them vibrated with heat.

Dean closed his eyes and breathed out, “Kiss me Cas…. or let me kiss you…” Dean lifted his hands as if he would place them on Castiel’s shoulders. But he kept his palms less than an inch from Castiel’s skin. “Please Cas…..”

Castiel’s knuckles brushed against Dean’s stomach, and a ripple went through Dean. Another tiny sound came up from Castiel and an echoing tremor ran through him, “…all those people I’ve been with…..”

“Cas, don’t talk about that now….” There was a hitch in Dean’s voice.

“Dean I never….” Castiel looked away, his voice quiet and pained, “I wouldn’t let them kiss me Dean. I wouldn’t…. I couldn’t. I want you to know…..”

Dean’s eyes cracked open and he looked at Cas. Castiel’s cheeks were redder now, his eyes downcast and to the side and he worried at his bottom lip with his teeth. Dean’s fingers twitched, but he held back and leaned closer. He brought his lips as close to Cas’ ear as he could and he whispered, “Everyone I touched in the last five years meant nothing to me. I fucked them because I didn’t care if I destroyed them. But late at night, I would wake up…. Aching for you. I would touch myself and think of you. I never let myself have you because I was afraid.”

The breath from Dean’s words fell on Castiel’s skin and Cas turned his head more, exposing more of his neck to Dean, “And now?”

“And now I know I hurt you more by keeping you away. I’m still afraid… terrified,” Dean shivered, “But god Cas…. I need you. I want you…. I should have done this so long ago…..”

“Dean….” Castiel bumped back against the table behind him and lifted his head. In a glance Dean could see Cas was clutching Tracy’s Walkman, the wire for the headphones threading around his fingers. Their eyes met and Dean finally brought his hands up to cradle Castiel’s face. Dean’s eyes were maddening, burning copper green fire to match his flush darkened lips. Those very lips were parted now, and those eyes had dropped to covet Castiel’s mouth.

“Kiss me Cas……” Dean pleaded. “Do it or kick me out of the room…. I don’t know how much longer I can take this…”

Cas pushed way from the table, into Dean’s space, pressing the Walkman to Dean’s chest. It brought his mouth a bare centimeter from Dean’s, “This is why you shoved me away in that cellar last year….”

“Fuck yes Cas. You accidentally rubbed up against me and I nearly went crazy and lost control…. and I just…. was afraid I wouldn’t stop, that I would hurt you. I was so angry at everything.” His thumbs were quivering as they brushed over the thick scruff of Castiel’s beard.

Cas moved his hands away to his sides and he pushed closer still clutching the Walkman in one hand. He heard Dean’s throat choke with air when his hip pressed ever so lightly against Dean’s groin. “And if I told you to stop now, asked you to leave, you would?”

“Yes….I’d go… but please Cas…. Please…..” Dean closed his eyes, squeezed them shut tight. “Don’t make me leave.”

“And if I did this again?” Cas swiftly brought the flat of his palm up to press in a firm draw against the front of Dean’s jeans. It was the same thing he had done to Dean the day he had fled Camp Chitaqua. Dean was hard beneath the fabric, straining it, and he let out a high soft gasp. Dean’s brows shot up and his bottom lip trembled but he didn’t open his eyes.

Instead he gripped Castiel’s head tighter in his hands and brought their faces together. His open mouth just touched the skin of Castiel’s closed lips and Dean’s whole body shook lightly. “Don’t stop… I need you, p-p-please…. Cas….”

The sideways grin that slowly bloomed over Castiel’s face was accompanied by a low throaty chuckle. He began to knead Dean’s erection with his hand through the fabric, working along the shaft with his fingers.

“Aah-hahuh….. C-cas…..” Dean shifted his hips forward into Cas’ hand, but his own hold on Castiel’s face didn’t fade. Cas’ fingers pressed and squeezed just enough to send rivers of anticipation running down Dean’s thighs and across his stomach.

Cas continued and began to nudge and push Dean backwards, still massaging Dean through his pants. “You like this?” That sly smile was still there along with a dark glimmer in Castiel’s eyes. “You want more?”

“I…ah-AH-ahhhh….I want…. I want you to kiss me…..” Dean tried to close that breath of distance between their mouths but Castiel held back, denied him.

Cas worked Dean back to stand against the side of the bed, and lifted the Walkman up in front of Dean, “Take this.” Fumbling, Dean let go of Castiel’s face and did as he was told. And just before Cas pushed Dean down onto the bed, he said in a lusty rumble, “I need my mouth for other things first.”

Dean’s eyes flew open as his ass hit the bed. Cas shoved him on his back and made quick work of the button and zipper on Dean’s jeans. Cas dug his hands around the waistband of Dean’s pants and his boxers, then tugged and yanked until he dragged both roughly off Dean’s body. Cas pitched the offensive pieces of clothing over his shoulder before returning his attention to Dean.

And what a sight Dean was now. His legs hanging off the bed, the natural bow of them parting them just so. One hip hiked slightly higher as he lay there, his chest heaving, his skin gloriously dotted with freckles, his cock so filled now it made the skin of its head glossy. One arm was nearly poised over his head while the other’s elbow dug against the surface of the bed. Dean’s eyes were wide and hot, and his mouth was working but no sound was escaping. The Walkman had tumbled sideways on the bed.

Slowly, so slowly, Cas placed his hands on Dean’s kneecaps and slid them up along Dean’s thighs. Strong fingers ran against Dean’s flesh, pressing down, leaving small trails as they worked their way up. And as he went, Castiel sunk down to his knees so that by the time some of his fingers were framing Dean’s ruddy cock, Cas was positioned between dean’s thighs. He pulled his towel off and let it pool on the floor next to the bed.

Mimicking Dean’s mouth ghosting over his when he was begging for a kiss, Cas began to do the same to the inner skin of Dean’s thighs. Over and over and over he went, barely touching. The plush of his lips not kissing, not nibbling, just ghosts of sensation against Dean’s inner thigh moving higher and higher. Dean was squirming and making soft high sounds, one hand’s fingers creeping along the bedspread in search of something to hold.

Cas kept it up, but added firm strokes of his thumb to the sides of Dean’s shaft, rolling them a little at the base. When Dean’s hips began a more urgent nudging, Cas stopped everything and held still.

Dean made a frustrated sound, his hands pulling on the bedspread, his head lifting up to look down at Cas. Castiel met his eyes with a wink and nodded to the Walkman and it’s headphones.

“Put the headphones on and click play.” Castiel’s voice was firm and unwavering. When he didn’t move to continue touching Dean, Dean complied and did as he was told.

Dean’s thumb jittered against the play button, but once the tape started music began to fill his ears. A driving low bass line thrummed heavy and heated like the vibrations already under his skin. Cas’ hands matched the beat and began to roam and fondle the meat of Dean’s thigh.

“You….. are my angel…..” Castiel mouthed the lyrics at Dean as they echoed in Dean’s mind, “Come from way above…. To bring me love….”

Dean was panting now, and the flesh of his cock was deep crimson at the tip. Soundlessly he watched as Cas crawled up halfway onto the bed, bringing his mouth closer and closer to Dean’s cock. As Castiel’s mouth opened wider the closer he got, Dean’s lips fell open in mirror fashion.

Cas paused, his mouth just barely held over Dean’s fevered skin. Their eyes locked in time with the voice singing “….love you love you love you…..” and Cas’ tongue darted out to lick and flick against the engorged glans of Dean’s cock. Before Dean could make a sound, Castiel closed his eyes and with a low muffled moan, began to kiss and suckle the head. He drew it into the wet heat of his mouth and then pushed it out with a firm push of his tongue. He continued, slurping Dean further into his mouth with each pass and soon he was swallowing Dean down fully.

Dean fitfully pulled at the bedspread with his hands, his head held up off the bed as he watched. Those soft high sounds Dean made earlier were now breathy and nearly a whine. The music hummed along inside Dean’s ears with Castiel’s bobbing rhythm and Dean’s body went more taut as the pleasure built, spiraling up fast.

“C-cas…. I’m gonna…..gonna….”Dean voice clipped out as his knees pulled up and his stomach tightened.

Castiel pulled off and gripped Dean firm at the base to cut off his orgasm. He surged up, to bring himself chest to chest with Dean, half on him, half off of him. Cas brought his face to Dean’s and his darkened blue eyes searched deep into Dean’s dazed green ones. He tugged the headphones off away from Dean’s ears so the music spilled out between them.

“Not… not yet.” Cas choked out, his voice low and ragged now. He shifted so his own fully erect cock was now shaft to shaft and head to head with Dean’s, the undersides rubbing against each other now, “Give me your hand….”

Fumbling, Dean released the bedspread and Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand as it came free. Cas brought both their hands around their shafts, trapping their cocks with them. They were both weeping out pre-cum and Cas used his thumb to draw it down and around as lubricant as best as he could. Cas began to move their hands now, forming a tight mass for them to rut into. It was still rough and a little dry. The sting of it made Castiel groan out and Dean bit out another soft sound at the same time.

They curled against each other now, Cas draped over Dean and Dean bowing up against Cas. They tangled their free arms around each other in a desperate clench and their legs bumped and hooked around the other. One shoulder each rammed hard against another, rubbing the skin red.

Cas kept their hands moving at an even pump, their hips rolling and undulating. Sometimes they worked together and sometimes they worked against. Mouths sucked wherever skin was in reach.

When their movements began to jerk wildly and the sensations of touch, sound and taste began to overwhelm, Dean threw his head back, and in a small voice whimpered, “Cassss…. fuck…. gonna…. Gonna cummmhnn…”

Castiel gripped the back of Dean’s neck with his free hand and brought their mouths together hurriedly. He kissed Dean fully, deeply, finally and the act set Dean’s orgasm off, his cum suddenly squirting out between them. Cas devoured Dean’s lips with his, sealing them together and catching Dean’s cry, muffling it as Dean came. Still pumping Dean through his orgasm, Castiel kept kissing as well, and Dean returned it tenfold.

When at last Dean was milked and spent, they continued their kiss. With a lopsided grin Dean batted Castiel’s hand away from their cocks. Dean took over stroking Cas, his thick strong fingers moving around Cas’ shaft to pull up, squeezing at the head with each pass. Everything was slick now with Dean’s cum.

“D-dhean….” Castiel hiccupped a low loud groan.

“Fuck, Cas, cum for me. Cum for me….” Dean shoved his mouth to Castiel’s once more, diving in with his tongue to wrap against Cas’ own.

Castiel went crashing over the edge, cumming in long spurts against both their stomachs, trembling all over. When Cas groaned out low and loud with the after shocks, it was muffled in another heady kiss between them.

And even after that they kept kissing. Moving and tasting, licking and suckling at each other mouths, catching fast intakes of breath where they could. They kissed and kissed and kissed, long after they were both flaccid and lax.

Eventually Dean slowed, making the kisses softer, lingering, tender. He stroked his fingers lovingly through Castiel’s soft dark hair and began to hum contentedly with each kiss. They were on their sides now, having rolled a bit, face to face. Arms wrapped around, fingers exploring in soft touches on skin.

“Do you want to get cleaned up?” Dean asked, his eyes roaming slow across Cas’ face.

“No…. when we wake later. I don’t want to move.” He reached back behind himself and dragged one side of the bedspread over to cover both of them. Cas nudged his chin up, placing a kiss on each of Dean’s eyelids closed. “Sleep now Dean.”

“No sleep.” Dean weakly protested, his eyes not opening. His voice was drowsy. “Round two…..” A sleepy but mischievous grin curled on Dean’s mouth. He half rolled, half dragged his groin against Castiel’s, both their cocks soft but warming.

Castiel made a ‘tsk’ sound, and forcibly rolled Dean over onto his other side. Then Castiel spooned around Dean, his chest lined up against Dean’s back. Cas snaked the arm under him so it came to rest beneath Dean’s neck, then reached to clasp with one of Dean’s hands. Castiel’s other hand smoothed over Dean’s hip and came to rest near the base of Dean’s cock.

“I’ll wake you with sex.” Cas kissed the back of Dean’s neck once, twice, thrice.

“Not if I…” a yawn “….. wake you first…..” Dean said groggily.

Soon Castiel felt Dean relax into deep slumber against him. He tucked his head against Dean and placed one more kiss to the back of Dean’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and whispered ever so quietly, “….I love you Dean, so very much.”

And then he too drifted off into dreamless sleep.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	19. Chapter 19

****

 

 

**Chapter 19**

 

 

Sam couldn’t sleep.

 

He had showered and changed his clothing and was now wandering around the interior of his hotel bedroom opening the drawers, trying to peek behind the pictures that were nailed to walls, fiddling with the useless landline telephone by the bed, examining everything in the bathroom.

Restless beyond belief, he hazarded opening his door to peer out into the common area of the hotel suite. Castiel’s door was closed and Dean was nowhere to be seen. Sam hoped his brother hadn’t chickened out and went off to find someplace else to sleep. Sam heard a low obviously sexually induced moan filter out in both men’s voices, his brows shot up high on his forehead.

“Finally…..” Sam rolled his eyes and stepped out into the living area. He was halfway to the kitchenette to get a glass for water when something next to the couch caught his eye.

Tracy’s backpack.

He kneeled down and reached out to take hold of it. He and Dean hadn’t gone through it and it occurred to him that even though they had put all their things on the table, literally, during the time he was with Tracy, she never emptied all the pockets. Now his curiosity got the better of him. He snatched it up, grabbed an empty glass from the kitchenette, then retreated back into his bedroom. He closed the door not wanting to accidentally here anymore from Dean or Castiel tonight.

After filling the glass with water, Sam sat on the bed with the backpack. He took a drink of water, set the glass on the nightstand beside the bed, and then pulled the backpack into his lap.

The pack itself was a smaller one, not one of the bigger styles used for camping. This was geared more towards a student to carry books. It was an olive green with a floral pattern used as the accent piping on the edges. Two key chains dangled from one of the strap rings. Whatever had been on the end of one chain had gotten pulled off, the chain just empty at the end now. The other one was a beat up plastic cylinder about four inches long and about an inch and a half in diameter. On closer look Sam realized one end could screw open allowing something to be kept within and the seal it formed made it water proof. Sam unscrewed it now and opened it.

Inside were three photographs that had been rolled up tight. Carefully Sam pulled them free and gently tugged them open to where he could see them. The first image was of Tracy at around twelve. A kid’s size diving mask was pushed up on her forehead, and she was wearing a bathing suit with little dolphins all over it. She had a blue striped towel wrapped around her waist and her hair was a riot of damp waves. Her eyes were shut and her mouth was open in a wide laugh. She was cupping several shells in her hands. Next to her was another girl, younger, with lighter blonder hair still in those same crazy damp waves. This girl was dressed similarly in beachwear with a towel, and she was squirting a water pistol at Tracy, a look of sheer determination on her face. Sam couldn’t see much of where they were, as the building was non-descript but their feet were in soft beige sand. Sam turned over the picture and on the back was scribbled “TLC and Scout / Long Boat Key”.

Sam set that photo aside and looked at the next one. Here again was Tracy, only younger, in an obvious posed Christmas image. She was wearing pajamas with a peppermint pattern all over it and red and white striped socks. Near her sat the other little girl dressed similar again only the pattern was ginger bread men. They were both grinning big at the camera and being hugged close by a smiling man with a short light brown beard and happy grey eyes. They sat together like they were definitely family. Behind them a Christmas tree twinkled and sparkled. On the back it said, “TLC and Scout / Christmas ……..” but the date had been rubbed off. Beneath that a different style of hand writing had written, “and Dad.”

“Ah…” Sam said, and took a moment more to look at the happy three before setting it next to the first picture.

The last photo was just of a young woman and Sam recognized her as the blonder girl in the other images, only grown up. She was wearing a military dress uniform, Navy, and she was wearing pilot wings. There was nothing written on the back of this photo.

Sam set it with the others and began to go through the rest of the backpack. He found one lipstick, the color a pale pink and the end of it worn down from use. He found several cheap ballpoint pens and a composition notebook with notes and drawings in it. The nature of them seemed to be entirely electrical diagrams and wiring sequences. Sam also discovered chemical compound notes and pages of mathematical calculations in the back. He set it aside and kept looking through the bag.

He found a nearly used up roll of duct tape, measuring tape, nail clippers, tweezers, a toothbrush in a plastic tube container, a nearly used up tube of toothpaste, a half full box of Altoids, a small compass, a small velvet ring box, a few more cassette tapes, a pack of unopened batteries, a compact mirror, a small pot of perfume and some lip balm, and several pairs of Tracy’s underwear.

He paused with a blush coming to his cheeks on finding her under garments and didn’t pull them all the way out. Sam paused though, and took the edge of one her panties at the waistband and rubbed it between his fingers a little. The color in his cheeks deepened and their one night together played back in his head. He shifted in his seat thinking about how much he loved the way her skin had felt, how good she had tasted everywhere, and how much he adored the sounds she had made. He breathed in a little heady sigh and then suddenly the bed he was sitting on seemed much too big and lonely. His heart bottomed out, and the sweet warmth in his chest soured. Carefully he tucked the underwear back into the pack.

He returned the other items back into the pack as well, but hesitated at the ring box and left that for last. Once everything had been put back where he had found it, pictures included, he opened the ring box and looked inside. Within was an engagement ring, a single solitaire setting in gold…. But it was missing the diamond. The prongs that would have held it were bent back, as if someone had wrenched the gem free in a hurry. Sam closed the box gently and placed it back inside the backpack.

He stood and carried it all over to the dresser across the room and placed it there carefully. His explorations of her belongings had brought up more questions than answers, and it made Sam fitfully lonesome for Tracy.

He paced. And he looked out his window. He drank his water. He paced more.

Finally he grabbed the sweatshirt he had taken off the tugboat and pulled it on. Then he headed out of his room. He paused at the counter of the kitchenette and went about looking for something to write on. He found a pen and a pad of paper with the hotel’s logo on it beside the TV. Sam scribbled a note to Dean and Castiel, then fled their suite.

It didn’t take Sam long to find the service exit up onto the roof of the hotel. He circled the edge of the roof and searched the sky and the horizon. Above, the night air was clearing and turning colder. Stars we starting to speckle through the cloud cover. The horizon to the east was dark as pitch. To the south, the campus was alight as if the end of the world had never happened. But to the east and north, the tell tale glow of fire loomed and danced at the edge of town.

Sam frowned, trying to make out what was happening there, tried to figure out what he was seeing. Instantly he wished he had Tracy’s binoculars with him. And a second later his bile was crawling up his throat, riding his anger.

Anger at Ramiel for seeking Tracy out. Rage at the situation that drove Tracy to say yes. Fury at the demons and at Lucifer and at the whole fucked up mess of the world. He kicked at the surface of the rooftop and growled. He threw his head back and shouted up at the sky, at the stars, at the Heavens. “How?!? How could you let this happen?!!? How could you let it get this bad?!?! Haven’t we sacrificed enough?!! Don’t you care at all!?!” He choked out a loud cry of anguish and then collapsed to his knees and wept.

“Ramiel…. Ramiel why her?!” Sam pushed his hands against his wet and burning eyes. “Why Tracy?”

A moment later there was a gentle touch to Sam’s head. Small fingers threaded lovingly through Sam’s hair, caressing at his scalp. He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking his mind was somehow tricking himself now. The fingers kept combing through his hair, soothing.

Tracy’s voice, but not her voice, spoke. “You know all those times you prayed Sam, all through your life… I was the one who heard you. I heard every single one.” Ramiel continued to stroke tenderly through Sam’s hair.

“Why didn’t you answer?” Sam said brokenly.

“I tried to… as best as I could. As much as my promise to Gabriel would let me. And I wanted to do so much more for you.” Ramiel said softly. “Which is why I sent Tracy your way. My last vessel in all of creation and I sent her to you.”

Sam opened his eyes then and turned towards Ramiel. The angel stood beside him, still wearing the robe from before. The hooded cowl was pulled back from Ramiel’s head, and Tracy’s long dark hair was swept lightly at the edges by a breeze. The bright points of Ramiel’s grace still flared in Tracy’s eyes.

“Tracy’s bloodline is your’s?” Sam asked. His voice was thin and worn. “And her Dad, and her sister…. They are gone?”

“Her Father is, though her half sister lives still.” Ramiel nodded.

“Half sister….” Sam frowned slightly.

“I did say Tracy was my last vessel……” Ramiel raised one eyebrow and it reminded Sam of a look Tracy had given him back in Baton Rouge when she though he hadn’t been paying attention to what she had been saying. Ramiel continued, as if trying to get a different point across to Sam, “Though I cannot, nor will not, take credit for her having the training, education and experience that she has. That was…. A fortunate twist of fate for what I needed her to do.”

“You mean you sent her to rescue me?!” Sam blinked.

“When Gabriel was slain by Lucifer, my heart shattered. I am regretful to say, that my mourning of him…. his loss clouded me. When you needed help most against Lucifer, I was wrapped in my own selfish woe.” Ramiel stepped around Sam to stand before him, “When I came to my senses, you had already been lost to Lucifer. I fled heaven with my Garrison, and hid on Earth, biding my time to try to find a way to fix my errors. I believed there had to be some way to expel Lucifer from you. And so I began to search for the tablets.”

Sam pushed one of his cheeks clear of tears. “The tablet you brought to Kevin.”

“Yes. There are several tablets, the Word of God written down by the Scribe of God.” Ramiel tucked one bit of Tracy’s hair behind an ear, and it seemed to Sam like a very Tracy thing to do. “They are…. How do I explain it… ‘How To’ guides. One is about Demons and Hell. One is about Leviathan…”

“What are Leviathan?” Sam interrupted.

Ramiel’s brows furrowed, “That is another long story for another time… my point is, there is one for Angels. And I believed that the key to defeating Lucifer, to pulling him out of your body, was on the tablet. When I found it, I then went and found my vessel bloodline…. I found Tracy.”

Ever so gently and with great tenderness, Ramiel cradled Sam’s face into Tracy’s small soft hands. “I sent her to find you, meaning only for her to be near you… I went in search of the Profit then, to translate the tablet. What I never could have foreseen was Lucifer leaving you of his own will. And that Tracy would step in and break you loose… and bring you away on her own? It astounded me!” Ramiel’s eyes flared up, her grace thrumming. “It was… it was as if God himself were at work somehow… finally!”

Ramiel lifted one hand away from Sam’s face, and renewed carding her fingers through Sam’s hair. “And now Tracy and I are together, with you. And we’ll see an end to Lucifer’s deeds and…” With each word Ramiel had bent closer and closer, bringing her and Sam’s faces near. Now the sun points of her eyes were dancing over Sam’s face and lingering around his mouth. “Oh Sam….”

Sam lifted one hand and covered the hand Ramiel had placed on his face. “Ramiel….” Sam swallowed and steeled his breathing, “You can’t stay inside Tracy.”

Ramiel blinked once, then again. Head titled in confusion for just a brief moment before realization bloomed big and fast across her face. Tracy’s hands dropped and Ramiel stepped back. “Unexpected. Very unexpected….” Nervously Ramiel stepped back yet again. “This isn’t…. I don’t…… my motivations toward you Sam have always been in servitude, as a guardian, to watch over you and keep you safe….not…not as….”

“A romantic thing?” Sam didn’t move.

Ramiel’s eyes snapped up to look at Sam, “Yes! But how?? Is this what happens when we angels stay in our vessels for too long?”

Sam smiled then, and it was mixed with sadness and warmth in equal measure, “Tracy is having more of an effect on you than you were prepared for, or than you even realized.” He chuckled and inside his head he thought, “That’s my girl.”

Flustered at their own lack of control, Ramiel looked away. “I’m sorry Sam. I was inappropriate with you.”

“Leave her Ramiel, if just for tonight. Let her stay with me. She belongs here and you know it. You feel it now. I know you do.” Sam said softly.

Ramiel took a moment before nodding. “Yes….” Ramiel then looked back at Sam, “If she needs me, all she need do is call me. I will come, I will help. But as I promised before, I won’t stay.” And with that Ramiel opened Tracy’s mouth and expelled out, grace bright and golden flowing like a twisting river up and out into the air. For a moment Tracy’s whole body was lifted and bathed in light. Ramiel vanished away into the air.

And then Tracy was sagging back onto her feet, one hand on her head, her dark eyes blinking wide. “Whoa. Someone slow the sidereal rotation down a bit, I need to catch up….”

“Tracy…..” Sam whispered out, his eyes clouding with tears of relief.

Tracy turned on her heel and looked at Sam, still on his knees on the surface of the roof. She took in a deep breath and a little smile came over her face. It had a hint of that first simple smile she had given him days and days and days ago when they had first met, but there was more there now. A deep abiding warmth came with it and it made Sam’s already thudding heart speed up.

“Sam!” She wasted no time in rushing to him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him close. He gripped her right back, crushing her against him in a huge hug. They buried their faces against each other’s shoulders and Sam fought back not to shake with joy.

Tracy pulled back a little to giggle and pepper Sam’s cheek with kisses, “OhmygodSam! So happy to see you with my own eyes…..” She pulled back a little and nudged his nose with hers, “Gotta tell you though…. It was nothing like I thought it would be! It wasn’t scary at all! The flying!! It was so cool! And when we zoomed through the dimensional membranes and smote those hell hounds OHMYGAWDITWASSOAMAZING….”

Sam smiled softly and let her go on, talking excitedly about her experience with Ramiel, about how Ramiel didn’t suppress Tracy inside her own head, how the angel listened to her, let her understand everything that was happening, and about how the angel kept hovering close to Sam, even when Sam couldn’t see them.

“And yes, I know Ramiel was affected by me, I could feel it… I could hear it in the way the angel moved inside my head. I pushed for that Sam. I figured if I was going to let someone else drive my train, I ought to at least have a say in where we were focused.” Tracy sighed breathlessly then and just smiled big and bright at Sam.

“So would you rather be with the angel now?” Sam queried, and a part of his stomach knotted up in dread.

“Of course not!” Tracy laughed. “But it was fun while it lasted. And I got to be a total perv and peep on you when you were taking a shower.” Tracy waggled her brows.

“You did what?!” Sam half frowned, and his cheeks warmed a little.

She gave a not so innocent shrug, “Well, Ramiel insisted we keep an eye on you, for Lucifer reasons. And I wanted to keep an eye on you for well…. Me reasons…..” Sam looked as if he was about to scold her, but Tracy placed one finger against his lips. “Okay… I shouldn’t have. And I apologize…..” She gave off another small sigh, “I just missed you okay?”

Sam stilled for a moment in thought, and he tightened his hold on Tracy. With a calculating look he said, “Then you owe me.”

“Naked in the shower? Do we have time for that with the whole ‘End of the World Part Two’ hanging over our heads?” Tracy threaded her fingers through his hair because she could.

“No one is going anywhere until we talk about a few things….” Sam said quietly, seriously.

Still riding the adrenaline from being with Ramiel, and from having Sam here in her arms again, Tracy leaned in and nibbled on Sam’s ear a little. Playfully she said, “Can we talk while we are rolling around in bed together?”

Sam bit down a smile. He pulled Tracy away and then sat down on the roof. He reached out and guided her to sit in his lap, her round rump cradled in his crossed legs, her legs threaded around his waist. The robe Ramiel had made her wear was now gathered in soft folds to her knees, draping over both their laps. Sam clasped his hands behind her back and held her there. “I want to talk about what you said in the RV park.”

Tracy worried her lip with her teeth and rested her hands on Sam’s upper arms. “What about it?”

“What did you mean when you said that guys like me broke the hearts of girls like you?” Sam quirked a brow up and tried to keep his eyes trained on hers.

Tracy let off a deep sigh and reached down to place her hands in her lap. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of the robe’s sleeves. She was quiet for a long minute and then said in a very small voice, “I’ve been overweight my whole life. My Mom wasn’t mentally stable, and there was some part of her that felt if I was pudgy I would never leave her. So I was the fat kid at school. And then I was the fat girl in high school…. And none of the boys I was attracted to gave me the time of day.” She gave a weak little shrug, “When I got to college I thought things would be different, and they were…. a little. Guys wanted to be with me…. but it turned out it was only because they were curious about what it would feel like to have sex with me. I was, on the whole, pretty savvy and didn’t fall for it….. y’know. But one guy was persistent, and I thought he wasn’t like the rest and I let him get close.” She went quiet now, an unhappy look clouding her face. She couldn’t meet Sam’s eyes now.

“What happened?” Sam asked gently.

“Obvious isn’t it?” A little pout bloomed on her bottom lip. Sam wanted to kiss it away but held back so she would continue. “He used me and dumped me and wasn’t very kind about it. And then I left college and got out into the regular world… and met other men. And it was the same thing over and over.” She drew in a breath. “Finally I just gave up and figured I’d just be alone…. And honestly I was okay with it. I didn’t have to share my covers in bed with anyone, never had to tell someone to keep the toilet seat down, never had to share my money with anyone…. I could go where I wanted and do whatever and never had to answer to anyone.” She paused, “And I was happy. No one hurt me anymore. It was safe.”

Sam dipped his head lower to catch her eyes, to bring her face up to look at him, “And then?”

“Sam be honest. If it hadn’t been the end of the world, and we sat next to each other on a bus, or at a diner counter or in a library…. You wouldn’t have looked twice at me.” The words didn’t come out accusing, but Tracy’s eyes had a hard edge to them. “You wouldn’t have flirted with the fat chick with the mousey brown hair.”

An image of he and Dean wandering into a diner someplace, with her at the counter eating came into mind. He knew instantly that Dean would have hit on her and would have happily bedded her even if he wouldn’t… couldn’t…. consider keeping her as a girlfriend. If there had been no Cas in their lives, Sam thought wryly. And Dean flirting with her would have kept Sam away. But if she and Sam had met at a library while he was doing research? He entertained the thought of them at the same table, her with her headphones on and her cassette player going as she read of technical manuals for electronics. Thought about how she would have tapped a pen in time with the music because she wouldn’t be able to keep still. And at first maybe it would have annoyed him. But he would have looked up at her repeatedly, and once he had seen how those little dark wisps of hair had curled at her neck, and seen the level of intelligence in her eyes…. He would have totally hit on her and wanted to get to know her. As much as he could have with the life he and Dean lead.

Then the quick images of her as hunter, helping he and Dean out, traveling with them… and Sam knew without a doubt that no matter where he had met Tracy, he would have connected with her.

He came back out of his thoughts to see Tracy with a miserable look on her face and her fingers twisted in the edge of her sleeve. “See? I would have been nothing but background noise”

“No….” Sam breathed out, “God no….” He leaned in close pressing his forehead against hers, “Are you kidding me? I would have been trying to beat Dean to the punch. Tracy you’re gorgeous…. All of you. The way your hair curls at the nape of your neck when you are sweaty drives me wild. Those big soft dark eyes of yours… I could get lost in them forever.” He reached one hand down to take a handful of her ample backside, “You feel amazing in my hands, against my body. I’m not with you because it’s the end of the world and this isn’t some ‘last woman standing’ bullshit. I’m with you because you excite me and turn me on and make me laugh and dammit…. I’m happy around you and….”

Sam’s voice broke a little, “I don’t know what I did to merit getting you in my life.”

Tracy tilted her chin up and kissed Sam soft and quick before she said, “Shh, shh, shh no…. You’re so wonderful Sam. You’re smart and kind and good and beautiful…. You’re more than I could ever hope for….” She peppered his mouth with kisses in between words, and he chased those kisses with his own lips.

Those kisses began to lengthen and deepen, and when their mouths parted open to drink each other in, Sam pulled Tracy’s hips up close to his. His breath started to go ragged as her hands laced through his hair, as they gasped between kisses. He shifted, needy with a groan as he rocked his crotch up against hers. He had gotten really hard really fast and now the need to be inside her was overwhelming him.

“Tracy… want you… can we….”Sam choked out between kisses and fast gulps of air.

She didn’t say anything. Her cheeks were burnished and her eyes were lusty and dark. Her hands ran down his chest and stomach to tug his shirt up, and from there her fingers’ sole mission was to get the front of his jeans open. When he tried to halt her progress, asking her to wait, she simply dove a hand down into the front of his pants to pull his cock free.

At the unexpected touch of her cool fingers on his hard flesh Sam broke their kisses and cried out in pleasure. She began to stroke him at first using both hands, but then he began to lose her rhythm as her own ache for him became too much. One trembling hand went to the bottom of her robe and began to work it up over her hips.

“Tracy…” Sam’s eyes flew open, “Wha…. What are you doing?”

“Having my way with you Sam Winchester…” She moaned in answer. She hiked the robe up more and Sam realized she was naked under it.

“Tracy you….” Sam’s eyes went wide.

She ignored him, her face hazy with desire. She pulled up off his lap a little by holding to his shoulder with one hand, and with the other she guided his cock right up to her entrance. She was warm and wet and ready from their kissing. With a long shuddering moan she sat down on him, driving his cock deep into her.

Sam grappled her tight, burying his face into her shoulder as they moved and rocked together. He lifted her up and then eased her down, and she in turn twisted and rolled her hips as she went. When he picked up the pace, she let out a delighted throaty giggle.

They keened out their pleasure and kissed and kissed and kissed. Sam was incoherent, only able to make low guttural noises and half huffed out breaths. He pulled and pushed, in and out of her, and she started to shiver in his arms as her orgasm built.

As he got closer as well, he switched to short rough thrusts that had the base of his cock rubbing against her clit over and over, and soon she was calling out his name long and loud. Her orgasm plunged through her, clenching around him, and Sam lost his mind as his hit instantly from the sensation. They writhed, still clinging tightly to each other as they trembled out the after shocks.

After a time they slowed, air still feathery in their mouths, their bodies still sweet with soft jitters. Sam began to cover Tracy’s face with kisses, everything now warmer and lazy.

“Sam…” Tracy sighed out happily.

“That was amazing….” He smiled, almost dopey.

“Really glad the angel had no idea what underwear is.” Tracy smiled back.

“Speaking of underwear…..” Sam leveled his eyes with hers and his face went a little sheepish. “I kinda felt up yours a little when I was going through your bag….”

“I know…. peeping pervy angel rider here remember?” She let out a small chuckle.

“So you don’t mind that I went through your bag?” Sam asked.

Tracy kissed him, then gave a quick follow up peck to his lips. She wiggled away from him, and they both stood, fixing their clothing to betters states as she said, “A little, but….. I dunno…. Not really. We aren’t exactly in a normal situation here. If it had been normal you would have asked…. Or I would have shared.”

He looked at her now, as if he had things he wanted to ask her. She reached out and took hold of his hand and began to walk him to the service door from the roof. The night air around them was filled with a soft stillness. They went through the door and were halfway down the service stairs when Sam stopped and tugged a little on her hand. Then he pulled her close.

“Tell me about the pictures in your bag.” It was his turn to stroke his fingers through her hair.

“My Dad and my little sister, Scout…..” Tracy explained. “I went to college, she joined the military. She became a pilot…. She’s the one who taught me all the hand to hand moves I know.”

“What happened to them?” Sam met her eyes.

Sadness clouded up in their soft darkness. “When the rage zombie thing broke out, Dad was a teacher in Topeka… in Kansas.”

Sam looked pained, “I’m so sorry Tracy….”

She hushed Sam with a quick kiss then continued, “Scout was stationed in Pensacola, Florida. That’s where I was headed when I came across you. I guess I can thank Ramiel for the idea to steal that tugboat to take down to the Gulf.”

“So Ramiel said your sister was still alive?” Sam hoped, genuinely, deep in his heart.

Tracy nodded. “Yes. When this is all over, and Lucifer is gone…. Maybe you could help me find her?”

The smile that came over Sam’s face was full of warmth, “I’d like to try, yea.”

Tracy slipped her arms around Sam’s neck and hugged him close. She sniffed once, tears in her eyes as she nodded, nuzzling him. “Thank you.”

They held each other like that in the stairwell for a long while before finally quietly creeping down to Sam’s hotel room to curl up and sleep for the remainder of the night.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The music in this chapter:
> 
> She Sells Sanctuary - The Cult  
> http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/93686501238/blazarony-the-cult-she-sells-sanctuary

 

**Chapter 20**

 

The wind was still and the air carried a hesitation on it as if all of creation was holding its breath. The stillness was accentuated by the return of the hazy gray midwestern spring sky. The light was diffused and soft, and the air held an edge of chill as the last of winter’s kiss trying to linger on. No birds twittered in the trees. All was silent, waiting.

Until a siren cut through the air with its bleating wail.

Dean sat up instantly, alert and awake. He dislodged Castiel’s arm from across his chest as he came up. The siren was coming from somewhere outside the hotel. He nudged Castiel, and that tussled dark head came up with start and a frown. The siren wailed again, long and loud and by the time it ended both men were out of bed and pulling their clothing on hurriedly. As they were pulling their boots on, someone pounded on their door.

“Dean?!” It was Sam.

“Yea… Sam…” Dean stood and yanked open the door to find his brother and Tracy there. Sam was pulling on a sweatshirt over his head and Tracy was putting on a jacket. Dean looked at Tracy, confused, then his eyes went instantly to the skin on her neck. He caught Tracy’s eyes with a questioning look and her hand came up to cover over a large hickey just under her ear. Her hair was once more pulled up into a messy twist, and the marks Sam had left on her after they had gotten to his room the night before were now visible. Her face flushed a little.

“No more angel inside you?” Dean asked her, smirking.

Tracy returned his smirk, “The only one who’s been inside me for the last 10 hours is Sam.”

Castiel blurted out a laugh, patted Sam’s arm and pushed past all of them to get to his pack still on the couch. Sam, blushing slightly, just grinned at Dean and followed Castiel. The two of them began to pull out the weapons there and load up. Sam leaned a little closer to Castiel and they traded quiet words between them.

Tracy raised one brow now at Dean, challenging him to say more. For a moment it looked as if he would back down, but then his eyes flicked from his brother back to her again. He stepped closer, thumbing the corner of his mouth in thought. He didn’t look at her, but instead looked down as he came to stand alongside her.

“So you booted Ramiel?” Dean asked, honestly curious.

“Sam asked Ramiel to step away for a bit.” She made a little gesture towards the room they had shared for the night. She smiled a little and her brows bounced up once. “And Ramiel did as Sam asked.”

Dean nodded and that was when he gave Tracy a sideways look, “Not the usual way angels have done things in the past…. You’re saying we can trust this Ramiel?”

“Heck no.” She scoffed. “But I think our goals and Ramiel’s goals are the same. As long as we are all on the ‘Kick Lucifer’s Ass’ team, Ramiel and the other angels here will play nice.”

“Uh-huh. Okay…..” Dean gave another small nod, “So where did you learn all those crazy hand to hand moves?

“My sister.” Tracy gave Dean an even look, a knowing one, “You know how siblings like to keep each other safe.”

Dean glanced at Sam, and a little warm smile come over his face, then his attention came back to Tracy, “Speaking of…I don’t need to give you the ‘don’t you dare hurt Sam’ speech do I?”

Tracy leveled one of Sam’s own bitch faces at him, and narrowed her eyes, “I dunno, do I need to give it to you?” The words were half teasing, but half serious, her protective nature towards Sam coming out.

The smile on Dean’s face climbed bigger. He stepped away from Tracy as both Sam and Castiel turned to hand them weapons. Dean kept his eyes on Tracy, winked once and said, “Forget what I said about that girl in Providence, Rhode Island Sam. Marry this one.”

Sam opened his mouth to scold Dean but the returning sound of the siren cut him off. All four geared up and hustled out into the hotel hallway, Dean leading the way with Castiel close behind and Sam brining up the rear.

They got to the door to Chuck and Kevin’s suite to find it riddled with protection sigils.

“Protective wards…. Against demons, angels…. Everything.” Castiel ran a finger over one of them. The paint was dry.

“Ramiel and I did that last night after Kevin’s mom got here, while Dean and Sam were talking and you were in the shower.” Tracy shrugged. “Salt lines are laid out, devils traps at all the windows and exits…. The works.”

Castiel nodded, but Dean scowled and hammered on the door with the flat of his fist, “CHUCK?!”

“Yea Dean?” Chuck called from the other side of the door.

“You guys okay in there?” Dean called out.

“Yea, Kevin and Mrs Tran and I are fine…..” Chuck paused, “Why?”

“Oh I dunno maybe because of the freakin’ sirens wailing outside?!” Dean snapped.

“Oh those…. Kevin said they are the city’s tornado warning sirens… he thinks it’s probably a test of the system since the weather isn’t right…. Don’t worry. It’s okay!” Chuck said loudly through the door.

“Can we not talk through the door then maybe?” Dean said, exasperated.

Tracy cleared her throat, “Uh, Ramiel wax sealed this door closed from the other side….. mix of salt and wax, with wards pressed into it….”

Sam and Dean both turned at the same time and looked at Tracy as if she was nuts. Castiel merely nodded as if everything made perfect sense.

“Yea, no, can’t get it open.” Chuck paused, “We’re making a lot of progress on the tablet though….” Chuck then cleared his throat nervously, “You’re not gonna like it though…”

Dean’s shoulders sagged, “I never do.”

Chuck continued through the closed door, “We need to get Lucifer to release his control on Death… then Death can just do his thing when it comes time and Lucifer won’t be invulnerable to him. The problem is, getting Lucifer to let go.” Chuck gave a nervous weak laugh, “We can either get Lucifer in a vessel and fortify that vessel to be able to exert control on Lucifer… and thus release Death….”

Dean turned immediately and pointed at Sam, “No. Absolutely not. It didn’t work last time… I’m not risking it again.”

Sam’s face looked stricken and he lowered his eyes, nodding in resignation and agreement. Tracy’s hand came up to curl into Sam’s, to hold it, and to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Or we can super charge an existing angel to be more powerful than Lucifer and break the spell holding Death back.” Chuck called.

“Good, great! We’ll get Ramiel’s glittery ass down here and get it done!” Dean said.

“Dean….” Chuck’s voice went a little quieter, but he could still be heard, “The angel has to be inside a vessel and it has to swallow souls…. A LOT of souls.”

“How many souls Chuck? How many?!” Dean growled.

“Millions Dean…. Millions of souls….” Chuck said. The siren outside wailed again and cut through the air after Chuck’s words like a razor.

Sam tightened his hold on Tracy’s hand and looked down at her, his eyes baleful. She looked back up at him and gave him a little nod as if to say ‘don’t worry, it’ll be okay’.

Dean turned, furious, and took the five steps he needed to the next door down the hall. Finding that many souls meant that many deaths, and he was sick of having to trade lives away to beat the bad guys. With a roar of frustration and rage he brought his booted foot up and slammed it as hard as he could against the door. It rattled and splintered. He did it again, and again until he had punched a hole through it with his foot. Then he stood there breathing heavy and hard, tears coursing down his face. “…..fuck….”

Castiel went over, and raised one hand as if he would place it comfortingly on Dean’s shoulder. He hesitated, then withdrew his hand. Dean turned then and looked at Cas, their eyes meeting for a split second before Dean was in motion. He pivoted quickly and scooped Castiel into his arms in a fierce hug, gripping Cas roughly against him to bury his face into Cas’ shoulder. Cas sighed gently, tucked his chin against Dean’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Dean in kind.

“Uh, hey guys?” Chuck called out, “Not to be a pain or anything but Kevin says the sirens have usually quit by now…. And we’re seeing people running down the street and generally that’s not a good sign….”

Dean and Cas broke apart the same moment Sam and Tracy turned as a unit and headed for the stairwell down. Dean yelled for Chuck to hang on before the door to the stairs closed behind him.

Minutes later the four were tumbling out of the front doors of the hotel to see chaos swarming around them. People were running, half with purpose and half with unchecked fear. Most were coming from the outer edges of the city and heading for the inner campus. They carried weapons and supplies. Parents carried children and one son was pushing his older mother in a wheelbarrow. It looked like an exodus.

One young woman wearing military BDUs rushed past Sam, then pulled to a stop and turned around to the four, “The Croats have broken down the northern barriers! Head to your shelters or the steam tunnels under campus…..!”

“Where’s Charlie?!” Tracy yelled to the woman.

“Bradbury’s at the front line, buying time for the evacuees….” The woman turned then to join the people coming deeper into the campus. The siren wailed around them again, much louder here outside.

“HEY!” Dean yelled, pointing to the machete the woman had strapped to her leg, “Can I have that?!”

The woman unsheathed it and handed it over to Dean, “Good luck pal.” Then she turned to help a family hurry to safety by picking up their son and following in a quick trot.

Dean hefted the machete and a dark grin came over his face. He tossed Castiel his gun and they traded a quick look before Dean looked to Sam. The brothers nodded and the three men turned to run off in the direction people were fleeing from.

“Wait!” Tracy called, and her voice wavered.

Castiel and the brothers turned back to look at her. She extended her gun to Sam, and pulled the extra magazines she had for it out of her pocket, “Here.”

Sam took them, his face confused, “Tracy…. What are you doing?”

“Listen…. I’m no good to you where you are going…. “ She cut Sam off as he was about to contradict her, “Large crowds freak me out… I’ll stay upstairs with Kevin and Chuck and secure a place to retreat if things get out of hand. I can use the fire axes on each floor for protection…. “ She curled her little hands over the top of Sam’s and around the gun and ammo there. “Don’t worry about me.” She smiled sweetly up at him, “I’ll be fine. Now give me a kiss….”

Sam bent swiftly and kissed her hard before she stepped back with a forced grin. She pointed at Dean as she walked back into the hotel. “Bring my Sam back to me!” She said and then she slipped inside.

“Your Sam?!” Dean said indignantly.

Sam clapped Dean on the shoulder as he passed, extra gun and ammo already quickly tucked away in his jeans. The three turned and broke into a jog, heading towards the sounds of explosions and gunfire now heard coming from the north part of the city.

Castiel glanced back at the hotel once and wondered if there was another reason Tracy had chosen to stay back at the hotel. A heavy weight settled into his gut as he ran to catch up with Sam and Dean.

 

 

\---------------------------------------------------

 

_They couldn’t stem the tide._

 

The Croats had numbered in the thousands and they came in wave after wave through the collapsed barriers and defenses. Dean, Sam and Cas had located Charlie and the band of Army reservists that held there with her. They had created a perimeter of gunfire, shooting down as many as they could as the Croats came pouring through the holes they had clawed open. Eventually Castiel took up a bladed weapon and joined Dean in covering people as they reloaded and to take down straggler Croats. They had ripped parts of their shirts and used them to cover their faces so none of the blood would get in their mouths. For a while they held fast, and the Croats bottled necked as their bodies piled up in a grotesque make shift plug of the largest hole.

But that backfired when other Croats were able to claw and drag themselves over the top of the pile, and the weight of it collapsed the barrier edges, and then all at once the hole gaped twice as wide. The barriers made of wood and chain fence and stacked cement pylons began to tumble over now, tipping down like dominoes one after the other.

Charlie screamed out a retreat, and she and her people began to withdraw. Sam covered them with gunfire where he could, moved back with them, keeping himself between them and the mass of Croats spilling through.

Dean and Cas worked in tandem, hand to hand with bladed weapons guarding each other’s flanks. They had been wading through, slashing down bodies for hours now but neither slowed. They retreated slowly as well, keeping the river of death from shifting in a direction that would doom them all as they fled.

In time they had made it back as far as the hotel, but the Croats kept coming, swarming through the city now unchecked. Charlie and her band of people, the Winchesters and Castiel were all driven back into the hotel.

They piled up the lobby furniture in front of the doors, but it was obvious it wouldn’t hold for long. When they all ran to the stairwells to flee up to the next floor, they found the stairs clogged tight with broken furniture. Effectively making the stairs impossible to use.

“What the fuck?!” Dean barked out. He was covered in gore except for where his make shift mask had been on his face. “What do we do now?!”

And that was when Castiel heard a sound coming from the elevator wells. He moved closer to them to find their doors were pried and jammed open with broken broom and mop handles. Music filtered down from higher up in the elevator cavity. The elevators themselves were seated two floors down in the sub basement.

[The music called down from above like a strange invitation](http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/93686501238/blazarony-the-cult-she-sells-sanctuary), a heavy drum beat and a rocking guitar wail calling a little louder now, “The sparkle in your eyes….. Keeps me alive….. And the sparkle in your eyes….. Keeps me alive, keeps me alive!”

A light went on in Castiel’s mind, “Tracy!”

Castiel brought Dean and Sam over. There was a service ladder in the elevator they could take up to the higher floors. Quickly they had Charlie and her people start to climb while Sam, Dean and Cas kept guard at the hotel entrances.

Once Charlie and her people were up, Sam followed, then Castiel and lastly Dean. He took hold of the ladder and was up to the second floor when he heard the Croats break through the hotel doors and run inside.

Four came to the edge of the elevator well, and one, reaching up for Dean tumbled over the edge and landed with a gruesome splat down below. The others scrabbled as if to try to climb along the walls by the door opening, but Dean simply kicked the broomstick free and the doors slid closed on them with a heavy thud.

Dean grinned darkly and continued to climb.

He discovered Charlie and her people on the third floor. Other survivors were here as well too, people who had been cut off and unable to make it to the shelters. Dean learned that when they had come in, Tracy had put them all to work clogging up the stairs by throwing down all the furniture on the second floor. With a wider grin Dean continued up to the fourth floor.

Four speakers had been ripped from the hotel intercom system and then wedged and mounted at the corner edges of the elevator door openings here. Tracy’s Walkman was wired to them and they were pumping out the music, calling out to whoever may happen into the lobby to let them know safe passage could be found up through the elevators. Dean eyed the quick electrical patch job she had done and he chuckled. Then he hauled himself over the lip of the elevator door opening and into the hallway of the fourth floor.

It didn’t look any different than when they had left it hours ago, except now he and Castiel were dripping Croat blood on the carpet and Sam was splattered with gore as well. The wards on the door to the Prophet’s room were still untouched and in tact.

But there was no Tracy.

Sam looked beside himself with worry until he saw that the door to the stairs to the roof was also propped open with a broken mop handle. When they all three got half way up the stairs however, that worry flared up.

Two mangled bodies were chopped and streaked over the stairs just before the open door to the roof. Blood and bone and hair mingled in thick pools of sticky clot on the steps, and the walls and the handrails. Sam started to turn away, a hot shout of horror clamped down in his mouth when he saw chucks of brain matter dotting one of the other walls.

“None of this is Tracy….” Castiel pulled on Sam’s sleeve, “These bodies, it’s not her body here…. It’s not her Sam.” Castiel insisted. Sam gave a little nod in understanding but still looked like he might scream anyway.

Carefully Dean crept up the stairs, trying to step in places the gore wasn’t as bad. Trying not to slip in it. He pointed silently to a dark smear of blood dragging out through the door to the roof. Castiel followed just as carefully, casting a concerned eye back at Sam before he followed Dean out onto the roof itself.

Shaking, Sam trailed up next, his eyes darting around at the remains of the people he was stepping on, stepping over. Finally he made his way out onto the roof.

And stopped dead in his tracks between Dean and Castiel.

Tracy was on the roof.

She was sitting down, facing them, legs out straight and bent over wrestling with something at her ankle. She kept whining and crying and clawing at her ankle. And she was covered in blood. It was splattered all over her clothing, across her arms, in her hair. The paths of blood from the stairs lead up right to her feet.

Sam made to bolt for her but Castiel held him back. Panic clouded Sam’s face, while Dean and Cas traded grave looks. Slowly Dean stepped closer. As he did, he could see that the hand and part of an arm was gripping tightly to Tracy’s leg, and that she was desperately trying to pull it off. Small high pleading, “get it off me, get off!” were tumbling from her mouth. Dean came a little closer and he could see a bloody axe handle resting behind her.

She had used the axe and dismembered whoever those people had been in the stairs, and in the process, one of them had gotten hold of her leg. And now comically, it wouldn’t let go. But the high reedy sound of her voice told Dean she wasn’t in a normal state of mind, and that if they weren’t careful, she might unintentionally hurt them, or herself.

Dean sat down near her, out of reach of the axe swing, and bent down to try to make eye contact. “Tracy…. Hey….it’s Dean….need some help there?” His words came out even and soft.

She whimpered. She pulled one finger free and made another squeaking disgusted sound before saying, “It won’t let go…. Get it off…. Get it off…..”

Dean could see she was shivering, coming down off the adrenaline that had been surging through her during the fight. “Okay okay…. Let me help…..” With great care he reached over and began to tug the severed arm’s fingers free, untangling it from a tear in her pant leg. As it slid free, Tracy began to weep loudly and shake more.

Dean slung the dead arm away quickly, then instinctively came to wrap Tracy up into his arms, much like he did for Sam when Sam had been a small boy and was hurt or frightened.

Sam and Cas came over quickly then, and Castiel took up the axe. He moved it away from her, noting that at one point she had gripped so tightly to the handle she had made a dent in the wood.

When Sam was close, Dean gingerly transferred her into Sam’s arms. She clung to Sam then, crying openly, sobbing out bits of what happened.

They had been two survivors, and they had come up with her to the roof to try to see what was happening in the rest of the city. She didn’t know when they had been infected, or if they had started to turn and just hidden it. All she knew was that they attacked her in the stairs, tried to bite her, tried to tear her apart. And she just reacted. Filled with hot loathing and pure fury, she had just brought the axe down over and over and over again until there wasn’t anything left of them but that infuriating hand clinging to her leg.

Castiel commented that being in the stairs when they attacked had probably saved her, kept their range of motion down and held them in a tight place so Tracy’s swings would count. Dean hushed Cas with a light touch, and then offered that they should all go back down to their rooms and wash the blood off.

As Sam carried Tracy, and covered her face so she wouldn’t look at the gore in the stairs again, they all meticulously made their way back down to the fourth floor. They returned to their suite in silence, and paired off into their respective rooms to peel off their gore soaked clothing and get the blood off their bodies.

The world was going insane outside that hotel, but by the strange fate of the universe somehow there was still power and hot water coming into the hotel.

None of them gave comment or complaint. Occasionally it’s wise just not to wonder.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria
> 
> Graphics for this chapter by http://alastairss.tumblr.com/


	21. Chapter 21

****

 

 

**Chapter 21**

 

That night was long.

 

Outside the Croats ran free and milled about the streets, wandering in shuffling groups of three or four. They seemed aimless now, as if whatever had been pushing them to attack had backed off. The city had been brutalized though, and the community broken.

Inside the hotel, they had cracked open the vending machines on each floor and made do with that for food. Charlie and her group had begun planning out how to move everyone down into the steam tunnels that criss-crossed beneath the city. There were food supplies stored there for emergencies just like this, and they could reach the power station and the water supply directly.

After they had cleaned up, Dean had joined in on their planning, with Castiel close by. He never commented, just silently listened. At some point Mrs. Tran had broken the inner seal on the door to the Prophet’s suite and Sam and Tracy had gone in there to discuss the translations.

Sometime after two o’clock in the morning Tracy and Sam had curled up asleep on the couch in the Prophet’s suite, while Dean and Cas had wandered out into the hall.

Dean began making his way down the hall to the room he and Castiel had shared, and Castiel almost didn’t follow, until Dean looked back as if to make sure Castiel was in tow. They didn’t speak to each other, bone weary and exhausted from the day.

Dean opened the door and went directly to the kitchenette to the small bar, pulled two glasses out and emptied whatever whiskey was left in there into the glasses. When he looked up, Cas was just about to go back into the bedroom without him.

“Hey.” Dean frowned and lifted one of the glasses at Castiel, insisting he come back and drink.

Cas paused, giving Dean a measured stare, his eyes moving from the amber liquid in the glass to Dean’s face. Dean wasn’t looking at him, instead his eyes were downcast to the drink in his other hand. Dean wiggled the offered glass a little, sloshing the whiskey along the sides. Slowly Castiel turned back to the kitchenette area and lifted the proffered glass from Dean’s fingers. Castiel brought the glass to his lips, took a tentative sip, all the while his eyes were on Dean.

“Hell of a day huh? Haven’t seen action like that since….” Dean kept his eyes on his drink still. He didn’t finish his sentence and instead gave a weak shrug. He made to take a sip of the whiskey and then he set the glass down with a firm thud on the counter. He hung his head and gripped the edge of the counter with both hands.

Castiel made his way around to stand beside Dean. Cas came in close, feeling trepidation, unsure if Dean wanted to be left alone or not.

Dean nodded towards his glass, “I want that but I don’t want that.”

Castiel leaned his back against the counter now, his elbow resting close to Dean’s, “I don’t understand.”

“All those drugs you took Cas,” Dean took in a breath, “You were just making yourself numb. All those people you fucked, same reason. I get that.” Dean hung his head down again, “It’s the same with me and booze. I want to take a drink, hell I want to swallow the whole bar. Wanna black out and not think about the Croats or the angels or any of it.” Dean’s shoulders slumped. “Man I just don’t want to feel anything right now. I’m just so….”

“Tired.” Castiel said.

Dean blurted out, “No. No dammit…. I’m angry. Frustrated… fucking furious that we are still fighting this same fucking battle over and over and over again!”

Castiel stayed still a moment, then he turned his body to face Dean. He firmly but gently pulled Dean away from the counter with his free hand so they were face to face. Castiel picked up both their glasses. “The drugs, the booze…. they’re good crutches for us… for now.”

Dean grunted and a small smirk came over his mouth, his eyes on the glasses resting in Castiel’s long fingers. “And the sex?”

Castiel hummed a little before he said, “Good for stress relief. Releases endorphins, dopamine, seratonin……”

“Cas are you giving me the ‘last night on earth’ speech?” Dean shifted his weight now so one hip rested against the kitchenette counter.

“Like you sort of did the night before we faced Raphael… dragging me off to that brothel to lose my virginity……” Castiel looked up at Dean through his lashes, swirling the whiskey around in the glass held in his right hand.

“Man you looked so terrified when Chastity walked up, drank your whole beer down so fast….” Dean chuckled sourly and shook his head, then stopped and looked Cas in the eye. “When you came out of that room, and we met in the hall before we got thrown out…. Your shirt was all open and your tie more a mess than usual…. Just how far did you get with her?”

Castiel lifted his brows up and down once, and rolled his eyes away. “Does it matter now?”

Dean frowned, more frustration crawling up his throat as he picturing her hands stroking down Cas’ chest, her mouth at his neck. He looked down and away, jealous burning deep even though he had no right to be. He had taken Cas there, he had practically pushed Chastity into Cas’ lap. And now he regretted not just dragging Castiel into the back of the Impala, showing Cas then how to feel good with their bodies moving together. Making Cas his that night.

“Cas…” Dean’s voice was a little dry in his throat.

“Stop.” Castiel set the glass in his left hand down on the counter and reached up to pinch the end of Dean’s chin between his finger and thumb. “It’s old news. Tonight is tonight. And tomorrow….” Cas gave a small shrug with a tilted to his head, “We’ll get there when we get there.”

Castiel slid his hand back around to the back of Dean’s head, carding his fingers into the thick of Dean’s hair there and gripping a little. He gave a rough little tug, just enough for Dean to feel it, and Dean let out a tiny gasp. Cas’ eyes fell to Dean’s parted lips and he brought the glass he was still holding up to his own lips. Castiel poured its contents into his mouth and held it there. Then he set the empty glass down and brought his newly freed hand up to manhandle Dean’s head closer.

Castiel brought their mouths flush to each other and shoved his tongue through Dean’s parted lips. He swirled some of the whiskey from his mouth into Dean’s then swallowed what Dean didn’t. The liquid burned sharp on their tongues as they came together, before sliding down their throats.

When Cas drew back and broke that seal on their lips, Dean groaned aloud. Cas looked Dean dead in the eye then and said, “I’ll be your crutch tonight Dean.”

“But Cas, I…..” Dean’s words bubbled up but the force behind them was weak. His eyes were glued to the whiskey edges on Castiel’s lips and it was firing the lust crashing up through his chest and down into his groin.

Cas took the other swig of whiskey from the other glass and repeated what he had just done, attacking Dean’s mouth before sharing the shot of whiskey. This time Cas didn’t break the kiss off. This time Cas gripped Dean’s head with both hands and grappled Dean as Cas shoved his tongue deeper into Dean’s mouth.

When the urgency of Castiel’s kiss began to force Dean into bending back against the counter, Dean’s hands finally came up and grabbed hold of Castiel’s shoulders. They struggled then, not to break away but instead for control. Cas seemed to want to just shove Dean up on the kitchenette counter and devour Dean. Dean kept trying to drag Castiel out of the little kitchen area and into the living room, trying to push Cas down so he could climb on top of the other man. It reeked of desperation and need.

They wrestled, pulled and grappled with each other, breaking apart only briefly to take in gulps of air or for one to dig their hand under the other’s shirt. By the time they hit the floor of the living room, both were panting. So hard their swollen cockheads were peering up through the waistbands of their jeans.

But their struggle had whipped up something primal in Dean and he had started being rougher, letting his frustration and anger and fear at everything going on with the angels and Sam and Lucifer bleed out into the way he touched Cas.

Cas had landed on his back, with Dean pinning him down. Castiel’s shirt had been pulled half off and now his arms were tangled immobile behind his back in the sleeves.

Dean was humping against Castiel’s crotch and shivering when their bulges stroked against each other. Dean smothered any sound out of Castiel’s mouth with more deep kisses as he shifted and worked open the front of Castiel’s pants. When they were loose at Cas’ hips, Dean pulled away far enough to yank them down to Castiel’s knees. Cas’ boxer’s followed. Dean then fell on Cas’ exposed skin, kissing and licking and nibbling all of it but ignoring Castiel’s dripping erection.

When Dean came to the tops of Castiel’s thighs, his hands roamed possessively over them and a wicked glint sparked in Dean’s eyes. Trying to catch his breath, Cas just panted and watched.

“Nobody else anymore Cas. Nobody touches you like this anymore. Just me.” Dean seized hold of Cas and picked him up halfway. Dean hoisted Cas up, lifting him and turning him over. He deposited Cas on the coffee table in front of the couch, with Castiel’s chest against its surface and his hips hanging over the edge. Dean took hold of Cas’ belt and synched it tight around Castiel’s knees, forcing Cas legs to be held together fast.

Dean leaned back a moment and looked at Cas. Chest against the table, arms strangled behind his back in his shirt, knees on the floor bound snug. The perfect rounded muscle of Castiel’s bare buttocks was exposed and vulnerable, leading to those gorgeous solid thighs below. Castiel squirmed and looked over his shoulder at Dean and he gasped a little at the look he found on Dean’s face.

Dean looked ravenous. The heat in his green eyes was a little crazed, a little frightening. Dean was peeling his clothing off his body in hasty clawing movements. He didn’t even bother to shuck off his pants fully but when one leg was free he bent down and latched his mouth against one of Cas’ ass cheeks and began to suck hungrily.

Castiel choked out a sound that was half gasp and half moan. His own body was lit up from their wrestling and his cock was hanging full and red just under the table’s edge.

Dean released Cas and then climbed over, draping his chest against Castiel’s back and arms. Cas could feel the leaking heat of Dean’s cock pressed to the back of one of his thighs. Cas tensed a little, not knowing what Dean would do to him now.

Dean held fast to Cas and nosed against Castiel’s neck, “Nobody else Cas… just me…. just me….” Dean’s voice was wrecked, low and possessive. Dean reached down and guided the swollen tip of his cock to press between Castiel’s squeezed thighs. He pushed, burying the length of his shaft in between those taut muscled limbs so that the head came through the front to nudge impatiently against Castiel’s balls.

“Ahhhhh….. Casss….” Dean hissed out in pleasure, “Gonna fuck you… like this….y-yea ohhhhh…. need you Cas…. need you….” Dean began to shove his cock between Cas’ thighs, pistoning with sharp snaps of his hips. Fucking his shaft between the silky skin squeezed together there. The tightness and the firmness and the pressure causing Dean to groan out and butt his head against Castiel’s back with each thrust.

“Dean….” Cas trembled uncontrollably as Dean’s hand came under Cas’ hips. Dean’s fingers circled around Castiel’s cock and gripped, stroked, and squeezed. The dual sensation of Dean’s hand on his cock and Dean’s cockhead bumping against his balls caused Castiel’s hips to jerk.

It also makes Cas clench his thighs and at this Dean let out nearly an animalistic howl. It made Dean to start to lose control. Dean’s pelvis began slamming into Cas’ backside while Dean sank his teeth hard into Castiel’s bicep. A moment later Dean’s thrusts went spastic and with a choked cry he came, coating the underside of Castiel’s balls in warm shots of spunk.

No sooner had Dean cum, and still shaken from his orgasm, Dean pulled away from Cas. Dean wrangled Cas around a second time and shivering with need, Cas found himself face up on the floor again. Still bound and restricted in his movements, Castiel twitched slightly in Deans grip. Dean wasted no time in pouncing into Cas to swallow Castiel’s cock down hungrily.

Making obscene noises with his mouth, Dean sucked and sucked and sucked, almost brutally. Dean’s mouth pulling and tugging on Castiel’s cock nearly hurt, and all Cas can do was writhe in halted motions and cry out in low broken moans. Castiel’s cock was crimson when Dean almost forcibly pulled Castiel’s orgasm out of him and the sound Cas made when he came was something between a swallowed scream and a cry of joy.

In Dean’s fervor however, he’s not been neat. Cas is covered in jizz now, both his own and Dean’s. But Dean didn’t care and once again he crawled over Castiel’s body to cover the other man. Dean buried his face into Castiel’s neck and just clung fiercely.

Bound, trembling from the sex and from Dean’s intensity, Cas closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the carpet. Dean isn’t just holding on now, he’s wrapped around Cas as if his life depended on it.

When Castiel’s tremors ease off he can feel Dean’s quivering growing. It escalates until Dean is squeezing Cas in a bear hug and Castiel realizes that Dean is weeping. There is no sound, but the shake of Dean’s shoulders is unmistakable.

“Dean….” Cas voice still sounds a little strained, but he tries to soften it. “Dean….?”

“Sorry… sorry…” Dean heaves his body up, avoiding Castiel’s eyes. He carefully rolls Cas to his side and begins the task of untangling Cas’ arms from his sleeves. Once freed, they both ease Cas’ legs out of his pants and shoes. The insides of Castiel’s thighs are rubbed red and raw.

At the sight, a small pained sound escaped Dean. “I shouldn’t have…”

Standing, Cas tucked one hand purposefully under Dean’s bicep. He brought Dean out of the living room, leaving their clothes scattered around the area. Cas marched Dean into the bathroom then, and sat him down on the toilet set. Cas could hear Dean babbling about wrecking everything he touches as Dean’s hands scrubbed over his face. With a sigh, Castiel turned on the shower.

Then he knelt in front of Dean and pulled Dean’s hands away.

“Cas…..” Dean whispered and his eyes looked so weary and tired Cas almost just let this all go. Almost let it all stay unspoken.

Instead, Castiel covered Dean’s mouth gently but firmly with his hand. “Quiet. I’m not some fragile china vase that will break if you touch me wrong. You needed to take control over something, to vent your rage. I said you could use me and you did.”

Dean peeled Cas’ hand off his mouth. Dean’s mind flashed back to when they were stuck in that wine cellar and Dean had wanted to hurt Cas. Wanted to tear Castiel’s clothes off, shove him against a wall and take him. Burn the fear and the helplessness out of his own body and rip the memory of anyone else’s touch from Castiel’s skin. He had come close tonight, shoving Cas down the way he had. Keeping him tied up, helpless. “But Cas I….”

“You what? Hurt me?” Castiel scoffed, “It’s a little chaffing. You won’t break me Dean.”

Castiel stood and moved over to the shower to test the water. Satisfied with the temperature, he held out a hand to Dean, who took it and stood. They crowded into the shower and pulled the curtain closed.

Without saying much more, they washed each other. It was more matter of fact and functional, being as efficient as possible. Once they were clean and the water turned off, Cas stepped out first and grabbed their towels. He wrapped his tightly around his hips and then went to dry off Dean.

Cas kept his movements tender, loving. He dried Dean off and then placed small kisses on Dean’s shoulders when he was done. Then he took care of drying himself as Dean wandered sleepily over to the bed. Cas hung his towel and when he came out into the bedroom he found Dean under the covers, curled on his side with his back exposed to Cas and the covers pulled back in invitation.

Cas flicked off the light and slipped into bed next Dean, curling around him and cuddling close.

Dean murmured out, “Need you Cas…” before he fully succumbed to unconsciousness, falling into a deep sleep.

Castiel sighed and ran his hand along Dean’s shoulder, then down Dean’s arm under the covers before he clasped Dean’s hand into his.

“I know you do….” Cas said softly, “But do you love me Dean?”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dawn came, the same hazy light drifting through the windows as the morning before. Tracy woke, cradled in Sam’s arms with his chin tucked above her head. She wiggled out from his hold, whispering to him when he stirred. He curled up and fell asleep as she kissed the top of his head.

She went in search of a drink of water, but as she passed the kitchenette counter in the Prophet’s suite, the work they were doing with the tablet caught her eye. She paused and looked over Kevin's translations, glancing at first and then slowing down to really read them. Thirty minutes later when Sam stirred at missing her body warmth, she was at the counter reading and scribbling her own notes on new paper taken from a drawer.

Sam stood and stretched, then wandered over to where she was. “Tracy….honey, what are you doing?”

She held up one finger to ask him to hold on as she kept writing, then eventually lowered it when her hand stilled. She looked over what she had written, then she looked up at Sam, “It’s like a technical manual…. You remember my notebook with all those diagrams and drawings?”

“Yea sure.” He scratched his tummy a little, still groggy.

“That’s what this tablet is. A manual. Ramiel wasn’t kidding.” She pushed a diagram she had made over to him, “It’s all about the exchanges of energy. In electronics, you’re trying to get the electricity from one point to another and in the right way to make it work… messing with angel grace isn’t that different.”

“Tracy I love you but you aren’t making any sense.” Sam propped his elbows on the counter, then rested his chin in his hands and looked at her with tired eyes.

She stopped and blinked at him. Color rioted up all over her cheeks. “Sam….” It came out nearly as a whisper, “You… love me?”

His eyes woke fully then and he blinked. Realizing what he had just said sent a big smile washing over his face, dimples and all. “Yea. I do….. Sorry that didn’t come out all romantic and stuff….”

“Sam you just professed your love for me while I am standing here nerd deep in God’s engineering manual and the smile you are wearing is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen in my whole life….” She sighed, a little flustered in a wonderful way. The smile growing on her face now echoed his. “And I love you too.”

She launched herself around the edge of the counter at him and he caught her happily in his arms. They smooched and kissed and pecked and smiled like ridiculous kids until finally, still lip locked, Sam tapped at the papers she still clutched in her hand.

“So you found something helpful?” He smiled down at her, his eyes sparkling lightly.

“Yes!” Her enthusiasm glowed, “Here let me show you….”

Tracy spent the next few minutes mapping out what she had discovered to Sam by reading Kevin’s notes, how some of the things Kevin had translated from the tablet could interlock with other sections. She explained her theories and how she thought they could apply to Lucifer and getting him to release his hold on Death. Sam nodded and listened and his breath grew excited, as he understood. He asked questions and they sorted through some of the issues he posed. She made more notes and they worked together to figure everything out, detail after detail.

“I can’t believe it… this could really work.” Sam let out a small laugh.

In contrast, Tracy looked at him now sadly. Her eyes were serious. “But Sam….”

“I know.” He replied and reached for her. He pulled her close, and planted a kiss to the top of her head. “I know. I wish there was another way.”

Dean was going to be furious, but there was no other way for it to work.

Sam was going to have to say yes to Lucifer.

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	22. Chapter 22

****

 

 

**Chapter 22**

 

The University of Illinois campus Quad was filled with roses.

When the angels had fled here, and knotted up together in a big ball of pulsing grace, the roses had shot up nearly over night in reaction. Full blooms of every color and size, and their scent had perfumed the air like a drug.

Lucifer slipped along through them in his True Form, skimming the grass, silent and stealthy. He twisted up around one bushes trunk and hummed in delight at the plant’s perfection. He was about to dive deep into the earth and map out the pattern of its roots when a feeling pricked at his grace.

Sam was near. And Sam was thinking about him.

Lucifer slithered up into the air, high enough so he could look down on the roses and he cast his senses around him fully. Yes, there was Sam, walking barefoot on the dirty roof of a building not far away. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and loose drawstring pants. He was unarmed and calm, standing and lifting his face into the wind.

Lucifer turned his senses out more and found Dean, skulking on a fire escape on the side of the same building, not far behind Sam. Dean was armed with guns and a knife that made demons nervous, but nothing that gave Lucifer pause. Castiel was not far away either, flanking Sam’s movements too. He was closer to Sam, on the roof but ducked behind a large A/C unit on the same roof. A smirk made it’s way through the archangel. Castiel held his angel blade. As if that would ever make any kind of difference.

Lucifer sensed others now too, moving cautiously in the stairwells and higher floors of the building, weapons ready. He scoffed and sailed in a slow circle above them all in the air around the building. Did these ridiculous monkeys think they could set a trap, send Sam as bait and then somehow gain the upper hand on the Morning Star? The idea was so preposterous that Lucifer nearly blinked himself to the other side of the planet he felt so insulted.

But then Sam’s soft whispers came to him and it drew Lucifer closer.

“I know you can hear me…“ Sam’s voice was so hushed it hardly came out of his mouth, “Dean thinks we can trap you, kill you with the Colt like we did to Azazel. But I’m not here for that.” Sam looked up. “I’m here to say yes Lucifer.”

Sparking with delight, the archangel flew to hover above Sam directly, bathing Sam in brilliant light. Sam’s hair fluttered around his head as he tilted his face up further.

Sam lifted his arms up toward the archangel and his fingers fell open. His eyes were closed and a look of serenity was held on his face. “Promise me you will keep Dean and Castiel and Bobby and Tracy safe. Promise me you’ll leave these people in this city alone. Leave this small corner of the world untouched. Don’t destroy them. It’s all I ask.”

Lucifer floated down and brushed his grace over Sam’s head, “I promise. Now let me back in Sam….”

Sam took in a deep breath and Lucifer could read Sam’s thoughts, his relief at his family’s safety and his willingness to receive Lucifer. But beyond that Sam’s thoughts were clear of anything else. Sam opened his mouth and held there for a brief moment, the word just lingering there at the tip of his tongue. Lucifer drew in closer, reaching to run light touches against Sam’s skin as if coaxing that word out of Sam’s mouth.

Sam held his breath another moment longer and then breathed out, “Yes.”

There was a rush of light and wind and sound, and the Morning Star, great Lucifer the archangel, descended into Sam, lifting Sam up off the sandy rooftop as the two became one once more.

Nearby, Lucifer could hear Dean screaming in protest, could feel the despair and the fury flowing off Dean in sharp jagged waves. The archangel settled back into Sam and this time, Sam didn’t fight back. Sam simply stepped aside and then nestled down somewhere in a self imposed quiet. Surprised that Sam didn‘t even give him a little bit of sass, Lucifer began to ponder this, to turn within and seek Sam out, to find out why his Boy King didn’t even give the slightest resistance. In truth he was a little disappointed in Sam. After all, Sam’s attempts at gaining control had been so amusing before.

The archangel was about to twist down and draw Sam up to the front when he felt something heavy latching on to Sam’s ankles. Shifting his perceptions, he looked out of Sam’s eyes and then down.

“Oh.” Was all Lucifer said.

While he had been focused on Sam, Castiel had made a move. And an interesting move it was.

He had turned on the machine he was crouched next to. Originally it had been the air conditioning unit for the building with a giant fan mounted within. The side of the unit had been removed, and that fan was now pointed so that the air it propelled out skimmed across the surface of the rooftop. This blew away the dirt and sand lying on the surface of the roof to reveal something painted on the actual roof itself.

That ‘something’ was an ancient sigil for holding an angel in place, much like a devil’s trap would hold a demon. It was silver toned in color and there were herbs and bits of other things mixed within it. Lucifer sank down to stand in the center of it, careful not to get Sam feet near the painted lines, unsure of what would happen if they touched.

“Castiel, you can’t be serious. I’ll break out of this eventually. This isn’t like The Cage.” Lucifer smirked with Sam’s mouth, and he crossed Sam’s arms leisurely.

Castiel flipped his angel blade around in his hand, “It will hold you long enough for what needs to be done.”

Dean was beside Cas then, catching and holding Castiel’s arm back, the fear real in Dean’s eyes, “Cas you can’t! Sam…..”

Lucifer smiled. “Dean’s right. Any angel blade that pokes me pokes Sam too. Poor Sam could die.” It was extra delightful to feel the anguish flowing off of Dean now. Lucifer breathed deep, drawing in its scent hoping it would bring Sam to the surface.

Castiel turned on Dean, glaring. “Sam would want this Dean!”

“Sam would want this….” Lucifer mocked, and rolled his eyes. “Honestly, this is tiresome. Sam invited me in. He’s not fighting me, and he’s quite content. I promised him I would let you live and that I would go on my merry way. Now be good little boys and remove the angel trap.”

Both Dean and Castiel had gone still. When Lucifer looked at them, their eyes were wide and surprised. Apprehension and disbelief leaked out of their emotional centers, their brains seemed to stall. Lucifer followed their line of sight and slowly looked to his right.

There, at the edge of the angel trap stood Sam’s little girlfriend. She was barefoot like Sam, and unarmed like him as well. She stood defiant and her eyes were hard and hot. Her hands curled and uncurled at her sides.

“Well look who has come to play.” Lucifer chortled, “Hello little thing. Come to give us a kiss?”

“Where are your angels now Lucifer?” Tracy’s voice came out at a hush, much like Sam’s had earlier.

“What do you mean, they are right over….” Lucifer gestured over his shoulder casually towards the Quad and the rose bushes and where the ball of angels usually hung in the air. He stopped. Slowly he turned and looked to where he had last seen the angels hovering. They were gone. Lucifer threw out his angelic perceptions, tracking them. They weren’t in the city. They weren’t on the North American Continent. They weren’t anywhere on the planet now. He could not feel or find them anywhere.

Lucifer fumed and turned back to the human woman. He didn’t know how she had gotten them to slip free of his control, but somehow she had. He didn’t care what promises he made to Sam. He was going to rend her to pieces for this. He lifted Sam’s hand and narrowed Sam’s eyes.

Nearby Dean cried out, the torment flooding out once more, begging Lucifer to stop, pleading Sam to break free and make Lucifer stop.

Lucifer sneered and snapped his fingers to make Tracy burst into a billion wet droplets.

Only, nothing happened. She stood there, unmoved, unsullied, unharmed. Lucifer frowned and snapped his fingers again. And again. And again. Dean now was silent, once again stunned. It was Castiel who drew Lucifer’s attention. The former angel was scrutinizing the girl closely, his body language guarded now and shielding Dean from her instead of Lucifer. Lucifer turned and looked at her as well. Then he looked deeper.

Or tried to. He discovered her mind and soul were blocked off to him.

“How is this possible?!” He demanded and tried to move over to grab hold of her, but he found that the angel trap held him well. He could only travel so far within it before it dragged heavy on Sam’s limbs, ceasing his movements.

“Lucifer, Morning Star… Once God’s beloved.” Tracy said, “Behold…. I am Ramiel!”

The air around Tracy swirled with a powerful flourish, lifting the fine free tendrils of Tracy’s hair away from her face. Her eyes burned gold with angelic grace.

Lucifer laughed bitterly, “You?! You useless spinless helpless excuse for an angel? You challenge me?! You who turned on me and helped that idiot Michael. You who gave your love only to God and Gabriel.” Lucifer spat, “Once I tear free of this trap I will shove you into the deepest black hole in space and cheer as it crushes and swallows you!”

Ramiel seemed to ignore Lucifer entirely. Instead the angel pulled up the hem of Tracy’s shirt. On Tracy’s stomach was drawn another sigil. It looked much like the binding sigil Meg had used to link herself to Missouri’s body, but there were key differences. It was more ornate and intricate. She fitted one palm flat over the sigil and looked at Lucifer. “You underestimate these humans brother. You should check your vessel more closely before you enter it.”

Lucifer frowned and then looked down. He lifted Sam’s shirt up to find a similar sigil traced in black sharpie marker across Sam’s stomach. Lucifer brought a hand up to rub against it, remove it from his vessel but it would not budge or smear. His eyes snapped over to Ramiel, “What is this?!”

“A link brother. To join you with me.” That wind whipped up around her again and those golden points of light in her eyes grew brighter. Soon the light was radiating out of them and her voice held the sound of other angel voices. “To join with ALL OF US Lucifer.”

Abruptly Lucifer felt it. Like a jolt of something electric, an invisible thread lanced through him, hooked into his grace. It was anchored to the sigil on Sam’s stomach. Made Sam an open receptacle for more than one angel grace. A flood of angel voices was around Lucifer suddenly, through him. Ramiel’s was among them. An understanding of what had happened hit Lucifer like a truck.

Ramiel had somehow drawn all the other angels into that female vessel, Tracy. Never mind that it could cause the vessel to rupture and explode, obliterating Ramiel and the other angels too. But Ramiel had also somehow linked Lucifer’s grace with Ramiel and the other angels, allowing them all to flow into Sam.

This meant that if they lost control, he could be wounded deeply and Sam might be destroyed. If Lucifer didn’t control Death, it could even end his existence fully. He was tied to a living angelic bomb.

Ramiel closed Tracy’s eyes and began to chant softly. The other angels joined in and soon their power lit up the sigils on Tracy and Sam’s stomachs and made them purr with power. Lucifer began to squirm. He cold feel the angels latching on tighter, crowding in and holding him much the same way the trap was holding him in Sam’s body. He jerked and pulled and tried to break the link, crack the trap, anything to wiggle free.

Lucifer opened Sam’s eyes and they landed on Dean.

Dean looked baffled, lost. Terrified. Currently Castiel was holding him back, keeping Dean from rushing into the angel trap to Sam’s side. Lucifer realized that in his struggles he had been thrashing Sam’s body around, and that he was now on his knees looking up at Dean and Castiel.

The former angel however, did not look helpless or lost. Castiel stood firm, his arms confident in their hold on Dean as his eyes darted between Lucifer and Ramiel. In that moment Castiel’s eyes went wide and he turned suddenly, ducking his and Dean’s head’s down as the sigil on the rooftop under Lucifer light up like a giant beacon.

Ramiel had not only linked Lucifer to the other angels, but now that link was anchored to the angel trap as well. Lucifer was immobile. He couldn’t extend his grace, couldn’t move Sam. He surged up one last time to test his bonds.

He did not find them lacking.

“Surprised aren’t you” Sam was there now, right there, front and center inside their shared mind.

“Come to gloat?” Lucifer sighed. “This won’t last long. They can’t keep that level of power up. Your little girlfriend is going to go nuclear and burn up soon. And then I’ll be free again. This will have been for nothing.”

Sam simply smiled. And then much as Lucifer did to Sam when he first took Sam as a vessel, Sam began to sift through Lucifer’s memories.

“What are you doing?” Lucifer sounded annoyed.

“I know, you were in the Cage for a millennia, being held down by a few angels is nothing…. Blah blah blah.” Sam said and didn’t hide how little he cared. His focus was still elsewhere.

“Such sass Sam…finally!” Lucifer said, “Did you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh, right…never got that chance did ya Sammy?” He had hoped to crack Sam’s cool.

Sam ignored him and instead latched hold of the memory he was looking for. And there, close by was other information he wanted as well. Sam gathered it all up and devoured it, drawing it into his consciousness as quickly as he could.

“What did you take Sam?” Lucifer droned, “Better tell me now. You won’t be happy if I have to come look for myself.”

Sam didn’t reply. Instead he began to tone out in perfect latin, “O Mors ender omnium liberator, grandis magnis aequatore age. Te, O Mors mea. Nunc ante me exaudi orationem meam……”

They were the rite to summon Death. Those words spilled past Lucifer and out of Sam’s real mouth, curling out into the air with cool finality.

“NO!” Lucifer boomed, and he reached out for Sam, to seize him, to squash him down, to beat him silent. To take back control of Sam’s body. But he found he was held back, even here in his own consciousness. Millions of tiny threads of angel grace still bound him even here. Sam continued, his voice growing stronger, louder, more assured. Lucifer twisted, thrashed. He snarled and chomped hard at the threads holding him. He put his complete fury behind it and bit down hard. Many of the threads broke, and Lucifer felt the other angels cry out in pain.

Grimacing with hatred, Lucifer let his most primal fury loose. He gnawed and gnashed at the connections that held him and he began to rip them free. The sounds of the other angels wailing in torment fueled his ire. Soon their hold on his mind was all but broken and he turned all of himself towards Sam.

But Sam wasn’t alone.

Death was here. Cold and solemn, stoic and eternal. The spell Lucifer bound him with still shimmered silver white around his wrists.

Near rabid, Lucifer spat out, “Oh Death! You are still in my thrall! Obey and destroy!” Lucifer turned his mind to the angels and Ramiel and bid them to end.

“No…..” Sam said gently and lifted one hand.

Lucifer stared at Sam, at Sam’s calm assured demeanor. Sam pulsed, radiated and glowed. Behind him, Lucifer could see Ramiel’s true form hovering, glowing. And with Ramiel the garrison of angels just beyond.

But what stopped Lucifer now was not any angel’s grace. It was Sam. Sam and his own conviction, his own will. His mind was held fast with images of Dean, of Bobby, of Castiel and now of Tracy. John Winchester flickered there, and Ellen and Jo Harvelle. And Ash. And Pamela Barnes. And every single person Sam and Dean had ever saved, helped, rescued. Sam held them all in his mind and drew an inner strength from it.

It was enough to make Lucifer hesitate.

A white blinding rush of power and light suddenly blasted through everything and blinded Lucifer.

When it subsided, Lucifer found himself floating in a vast cache of stars and beautiful coloured gases in space. All of the universe and all of creation swung in its glory around him. For a brief moment, Lucifer thought he could feel the loving touch of his Father’s smile. Lucifer closed his eyes. Happiness coursed through him and he sighed.

When Lucifer opened his eyes. Ramiel was floating lightly in front of him, in the angel’s true form, not within the vessel; a roiling trapezoid of shimmering rainbows, and Ramiel’s light vibrated in sweet ripples causing little sparks dancing off into space from the edges. Ramiel’s seven halos rotated around the points of the trapezoids and the angel’s wings flicked and sputtered in the folds.

Lucifer knew then that the bright light had been Ramiel and the angels pulling him past Earth’s normal reality parameters to bring him to this glittering space. That meant that they had control of his true form as well as his grace.

Lucifer knew then he had lost this battle.

“Gabriel didn’t die you know.” Lucifer said, strangely all anger and hate released from him now. If he was going to be put down by his angel brethren again, now for a second time, he wanted to do so with a clean conscience. “I knew him, knew his tricks. He tried to stop me, tried to stand in my way. But that bait and switch he pulled? I stabbed the illusion. I did not stab him.”

“What became of him. Where did he go?” Ramiel asked.

“I boxed him up, tucked him away where he would stay out of trouble.” Lucifer drew out a key and passed it over to Ramiel. Ramiel took it. The key was made of the sounds of temple bells, the dreams of an octopus and several yet undiscovered principles of time travel. “The key will guide you to where he is. If your love for him is that great, you might be able to free him.”

Ramiel didn’t reply to that and simply held the key close. A chime sounded somewhere and Ramiel said, “Forgive me brother, I am about to sin.”

Lucifer nodded, “You broke the spell holding Death.”

“I did not. Sam Winchester did. It is he who breaks your hold on Death. All of this, figuring out how to use the sigils, creating the links to the sigils and the vessels, employing the angel grace as they did…. All of it was cleverly designed by those flawed little humans you hate. While I was here away in the heart of creation holding your true form captive, Sam was unraveling the spell that bound the Horseman. Sam is the one who unleashes Death upon you.” Ramiel paused, “My sin is in feeling relief at witnessing your ending.”

There was a hard jerk as Ramiel let go of his true form and Lucifer felt as if he came crashing back to earth. He flew out of space, past the angel’s graces that had shoved him into that space with Ramiel in their last effort to undo him, and past Sam’s consciousness.

He could feel his weakened grace being forced from Sam. Sam was expelling him by Sam’s own will. Lucifer twisted and tried to hold on, but Sam’s entire purpose was bent on ejecting the archangel. And Lucifer’s fading connection to the other angels still kept him hampered.

Lucifer was expunged, ejected out into the air. He washed out with a wail into the air, forcing Dean and Castiel to duck further and cover their ears. The windows of the building beneath shattered violently. Lucifer in his true form hovered and then turned. He was free of Sam, but free of the angel trap now as well. The trap was now ruptured and broken, burnt marks radiating away from Sam. He moved closer to Sam, to make a plea to be allowed to return or to smite Sam. He wasn’t sure which.

Death stood where Sam had been a moment before, removing the choice from Lucifer’s hands.

Death pulled a clean handkerchief from the breast pocket of his coat and dabbed his forehead. He lowered it, looked up at Lucifer and said, “It’s time to go Lucifer.”

Lucifer opened his voice to beg but he was silenced.

And then they were both gone.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The music on the Walkman in this chapter:
> 
> Keep On Dancin’ - Marvin Gaye  
> http://yowsahyowsahyowsah.tumblr.com/post/67362761879/arristide-got-to-give-up-part-1-marvin-gaye

****

 

 

**Chapter 23**

**Champaign-Urbana, 5 minutes later.**

 

The small inner spools inside the Walkman were turning. They creaked ever so slightly, as they turned the wheel hubs on the cassette tape. It was rhythmic and slightly hypnotic in the quiet. A curious finger traced along the little window on the door where you opened it to slip the cassette tape in, while the other hand cradled the Walkman with gentle reverence. Hands carefully turned the Walkman over, then that finger moved in slow lines, drawing over the faded wing stickers on the back.

The hands holding the Walkman were old. Unfathomably old. The hands belonging to Death.

[He wore the headphones on his head, and nodded his chin a tad to the music as he stood there on the rooftop.](http://yowsahyowsahyowsah.tumblr.com/post/67362761879/arristide-got-to-give-up-part-1-marvin-gaye)  
“I got up on the floor and thought…  
Somebody could choose me  
No more standin' there beside the walls  
I done got myself together baby  
And now I'm havin' a ball  
As long as you're groovin'  
There's always a chance….”

He looked around a moment, and with an elegant motion, removed the headphones from his ears. The music spilled out into the air, muffled and tinny without the bass line caught deeper in the headphones.

There were four bodies lying on the rooftop, three men and one woman. And one of the men was beginning to come around to consciousness.

Dean Winchester. Of course.

“Keep on Dancin’…..” Marvin Gaye’s voice sang funky sweet through the headphones still cradled in Death’s hands.

Death pulled on a wane smile and waited for the thoughts jumbling around in Dean’s mind to settle and come out the man’s mouth.

Dean rolled up onto his rump, his knees partly bent and his bowlegs spread a little. He rubbed the heel of his hands to his eyes and then to his forehead before looking up. On seeing Death standing there, Dean gave a little jump, his eyes wide with surprise at first and then apprehension.

The first thing Dean did was snap his head to where Sam had been inside the angel trap. Sam was on his back, draped with one leg pinned half behind him, slightly turned on his side. One arm was extended around Sam’s head and the other lay limp across his torso. Sam’s head was turned towards Dean, but that mop of hair Sammy insisted on keeping on his head obscured his face.

To Dean’s relief, he could see Sam’s chest rise and fall, breathing easily.

The second thing Dean did was snap around to his other side to find Castiel.

The former angel had a gash on his temple where his head hit the roof’s surface, and he was curled over in fetal position facing towards Dean. Dean reached for Cas, cupping the side of his face and then feeling down along his neck for the jugular vein. When Dean felt that vein jump with a pulse, Dean breathed out his second sigh of relief.

Slowly then Dean side-eyed Death, who was still standing there with the Walkman in his ancient and powerful hands like he was waiting for someone to ask him to sit down and stay awhile.

“What am I doing here if Castiel and Sam are both…. Well, no worse for wear shall we say….?” Death lifted both brows and looked pointedly at Dean, voicing the thoughts he could see in Dean’s eyes. “That is an excellent question.”

Death pivoted on his heel then and turned to regard Tracy.

She was on her back much like Sam, nearly mirroring his position. Her hair was covering her face as well, but Dean could not see any rise and fall to her chest.

“No, no no no no…” Dean scrambled to his feet and half stumbled half skid over to her side. He reached for her, his hands trembling. He lifted her head and brushed her hair away from her face. His gut seized up and he nearly wailed out in pain when he saw her.

Her eyes, those dark soft warm brown eyes, the eyes that had looked at his brother with such adoration and love, were gone. Burned out clean like so many others who had been near angels and seen their true forms. She held no pulse in her, no breath. She was limp and lifeless.

Dean shifted, not knowing whether to clutch her close or shove her body away. He whipped his head around to spear Death with a look filled with anger and misery. “Why?! She was a vessel!! How…?!?”

Death clicked the ‘stop’ button on the Walkman and slowly moved to stand beside Tracy opposite from Dean, “She held inside her the graces of over 40 some angels. No human was built for that Dean. Not even Michael’s Sword or Lucifer’s Boy King. The ritual she and Sam did helped hold them contained but when they left her…. They burned her out.” Death’s voice was gentle, compassionate.

“What… how… She and Sam what did they do? I don’t understand any of this.” Dean did clutch her close now, cradling her like a parent would a child, or an older sibling would a younger. His eyes were hot and red and filling with tears.

“Sam and Tracy told you about the angel trap yes?” Death met Dean’s eyes with a calm look.

“Yea. It was from the tablet. Cas and I were to set the angel trap up, Sam would lure Lucifer into the trap and we would hold Lucifer there. That’s what we were supposed to do….” Dean hiccupped a little, the tears welling up in his eyes now peaking and rolling down his cheeks. “And then Tracy said Ramiel would take care of Lucifer…”

Carefully Death reached over and lightly placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Sam and Tracy didn’t tell you everything. In order for their plan to work, Lucifer had to be inside his vessel. Inside Sam. Tracy would let Ramiel in, but then Ramiel would let in the other angels as well, through a rite that Kevin and Chuck translated off the tablet.”

Dean nodded, understanding now. “With all the angels inside her, Ramiel had the power to TKO Lucifer….”

“More like hold Lucifer in every way possible… to give Sam time to free me.” Death spoke gently still, and removed his hand from Dean’s shoulder.

“And then you got Lucifer.” Dean blinked, two more tears creeping down his face.

“Once Lucifer was gone, the angels and Ramiel left Tracy… and it was too much for her.” Death paused and looked down at Tracy now. Reverently he took the Walkman and placed it into her limp hands.

Dean looked up into the hazy gray Illinois sky and bit his lip. He hadn’t known Tracy long, but what he did know of her, he had liked. A lot. And Sam…. This was going to kill Sam. How was he going to bring this news to his brother when Sam was on his feet again? It would devastate him.

“Dean, stand up with her please. Hold her….” Death straightened and gestured to Dean.

Dean looked back down and did as he was asked. He cradled her in his arms and bit back a cry when her head flopped backwards over his arm. Gingerly Death reached over and carefully lifted her head, placing it to Dean’s shoulder.

Sincerely, Dean thanked Death for that small kindness.

“Don’t thank me yet Dean. I haven’t done what I’ve stayed for.” Death lifted his brows again and moved to stand in front of Dean.

Puzzled, Dean watched as Death carefully unhooked his cufflinks and pocketed them. Then Death methodically rolled up his cuffs over the edges of his suit coat, and pushed all of those sleeves up to his elbows. He flexed his hands and fingers several times, then held still.

Dean’s eyes darted from Death to Tracy, his green eyes going wide, holding his breath.

Delicately, like a surgeon, Death placed his fingers on Tracy’s crown. He whispered words Dean could neither understand, not quite hear. It seemed to Dean they were made of a light breeze and echoed in shadow and hushed across the moon all at once. And Dean didn’t know how he knew those things, how he could feel them so keenly. But all the hair on his head was beginning to stand on end and deep in his bones he felt a live wire tingling. He didn’t move and he barely breathed.

Then that feeling dissipated and Death withdrew his hands. He turned away and began to roll his sleeves down. Dean was about to speak when Death cut him off saying, “Give it a moment….”

Tracy jerked in Dean’s arms, gasping for breath, coughing a little, her healed eyelids squeezed shut.

“There it is.” Death smiled as he replaced his cufflinks.

Tracy’s eyes flew open, healed and whole. She gripped her small hands to Dean’s jacket and tensed up in his arms. Overjoyed Dean crushed her against him in a hug.

“Dean… what are you doing?” Sam’s confused half croaky voice came from behind Dean and he whirled around with Tracy still in his arms; Dean’s face was mess of happiness and smeared tears.

“Dean?” Tracy looked at Dean puzzled.

“Dean??!” Castiel called from where he was sitting up.

“It was Death and she was, Tracy was burnt out and Death he….” Comically still clinging to Tracy, Dean pointed with one finger to where Death had been standing but was no more.

“Oh.” Dean blinked and then with a sheepish smile, carefully set Tracy down on her feet.

Tracy for her part just raised her brows at Dean and took a step back. Sam and Castiel on the other hand both got to their feet with suspicious and skeptical looks on their faces as they eyed Dean.

Tracy turned to go to Sam when she paused and looked around beyond the top of the building they were on. It was quiet. No explosions, no people running and screaming, no masses of Croatoan roaming the streets. There were also no angel graces to be seen, none.

All four of them walked cautiously to the edge of the roof and looked down.

The Croats were gone. The city smoldered and smoked, but there were no screams, no sounds of struggle or fighting. Just soft calm silence.

“Is it really over?” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the stillness.

“Lucifer??” Dean asked, looking at Sam.  
“Gone. Ended.” Sam replied back and then suddenly the realization hit him. He was completely and utterly free. Lucifer was GONE. It was OVER. It was really over. Tears of relief flooded up into his eyes. “Dean……”

“Sammy!” Dean let out a shout, a whoop of joy and he leaned over to clasp Sam into a bear hug. Sam hugged back, the two of them nearly bouncing as the weight of the last five years lifted off of them.

When they came apart Sam instantly turned to Tracy and scooped her into his arms, crushing her close. “Oh my god, Tracy! We did it! We did it!!” They fell into each other further, kissing and laughing as Sam spun her around.

Dean wheeled around with a huge smile on his face, aiming it right at Castiel. “Cas?” He opened up his arms and started to move closer to Cas, as if he’d crush him into a similar hug. But he stalled when he saw Cas facing back across the rooftop.

Someone was standing there with them.

Cas was looking at a young man. It wasn’t anyone Dean had ever seen before. The kid was probably eighteen or nineteen, fresh faced, tussled light coloured hair poking out from under a beat up ‘Weiner Hut’ hat. He was wearing faded jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days. But the young man’s eyes were bright and clear and intense.

That’s when it clicked in Dean’s head that this was no normal college age kid. Dean was looking at an inhabited vessel.

Dean came to stand beside Castiel, one shoulder aimed at the new comer while the rest of his body was turned towards Cas. “Friend of yours?”

“I’m…. I’m not sure.” Castiel looked puzzled, but it wasn’t his old angelic furrowed brow and titled head combination. This look he wore now was all human with his lips slightly parted and the hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Castiel.” The young man smiled and he took a light step forward, “We have never met, but I have heard so much about you. I am Samandriel.”

“Samandriel…. Part of Ramiel’s garrison?” Castiel reached out and stroked his hand briefly along Dean’s shoulder before he took a step in Samandriel’s direction. “The garrison that helped take down Lucifer just now?”

“Yes.” Samandriel smiled, pleased. It was an innocent expression.

“Part of the garrison that ripped Tracy up from the inside out?” Dean gruffed out, not hiding his anger.

Instantly Samandriel raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, “We did not want to! We did not mean to…. In truth we had no idea that we would harm her when we all exited her as a vessel.”

“Then why didn’t you heal her?!” Dean barked.

Samandriel looked pained, genuinely so. “We had not the ability, so depleted we were from our encounter with The Lightbringer.” He pleaded openly with his eyes. “Please….”

“Why are you here Samandriel?” Cutting Samandriel off, Castiel lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes.

“Ramiel sent me…” Samandriel lowered his hands. “The garrison removed the Croatoan virus and all the infected from the Earth. They will plague the world no longer.”

Castiel looked at Dean a moment and Dean gave a satisfied nod. Castiel returned his attention to Samandriel, “Anything else?”

“The Last Archangel…. Gabriel…. is not perished.” Samandriel couldn’t help but smile excitedly.

“What do you mean ‘not perished’?” Castiel looked skeptical.

“In his confrontation with Lucifer, The Lightbringer did not slay The Trickster. Gabriel once again faked his destruction but he did not elude Lucifer. Lucifer caught Gabriel and bound him. Imprisoned him.” Samandriel spoke excitedly.

By now Sam and Tracy had come over to stand next to Dean and Dean looked at Sam, “Is that true? Did Lucifer gank Gabe or not?”

Sam sized up Samandriel a moment, but spoke to Dean as he kept his eyes on this new angel, “It’s true. I saw it Lucifer’s memories when I was searching for the spell to free Death.”

“Huh.” Dean pondered that a moment and then looked back at Samandriel. “So, now what?”

Samandriel nearly burst with delight, “Ramiel has gone to free him! Soon, he’ll be returned to Heaven and we can rebuild under his guidance.”

Dean openly smirked and rolled his eyes, “Oh yea good luck with THAT.”

Samandriel ignored Dean as he turned his full attention to Castiel, “And with his return, and the return of all the angels to Heaven….. Castiel will be needed.”

Castiel made an odd move, a half jerk, a half roll of his shoulders and his eyes went wider in disbelief. “I don’t understand…. My grace is gone. I’m no longer an angel.”

“Oh no no,” Samandriel smiled, “It isn’t gone… I have it here. Ramiel sent me to give it to you.” He then proceeded to reach into a pocket in his jeans. After a bit of fumbling, he retrieved an odd looking clear box.

Within the box sparkled and shone the unmistakable shimmering glow of an angel’s grace.

Castiel made a cut off gasping sound of shock and fell back a step.

“Cas?!” Dean pivoted, his eyes locked on to Cas now, a visible nervousness suddenly colouring his face.

“It… it’s really my grace.” His voice was thin and crisp like a layer of new ice in winter. His body felt cold, hollow and weak. He felt so damn weak. “How is this possible?”

Samandriel extended his hand, holding the box out to Castiel. “Lucifer removed it from you and placed it within the garrison… within the ball of angel grace. Hiding it among us.”

Castiel’s eyes dropped from Samandriel’s face to the box in his hands. His heart sped up, beating faster. Could this be true? What he had longed for so deeply, could it be within reach now? Slowly, carefully he reached out towards the box with his hand.

“Cas!” Dean gasped out, one hand taking hold of Castiel’s shoulder, “Cas…wait….”

Castiel turned to Dean, partway, and frowned. “Wait? For what?”

Dean balked, his eyes growing wide. He swallowed and licked his lips, stalling for words to come up into his mouth while his breath stuck deep in his chest. His eyes flicked from Castiel’s to the box of grace.

Nearby Sam bit his lip and his grip on Tracy’s shoulders increased. She reached up to clasp a hand against his in understanding. They both held their breath and watched.

“What am I waiting for Dean?” Castiel met Dean’s eyes and he cocked his head slightly as if entreating Dean to continue.

“Just… you know… it’s a big step… going back to being a celestial who-sits-whatever being of intent… and stuff.” Dean stumbled out as his hand slipped away from Castiel’s shoulder. He gave a weak half smile and a light shrug as if that would explain everything to Cas.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean and turned away. He took the needed steps up to Samandriel and then gingerly plucked the box holding his grace from the angel’s hand.

Dean let out a small noise, an odd sound that was unidentifiable. Part sucked in breath, part in pulled whine.

Castiel ignored Dean and focused on Samandriel. “Thank you for bringing this to me.”

Samandriel beamed with delight, “So very welcome dear Castiel. We look forward to seeing you soon.” And with that Samandriel was gone in a flutter of air displacement and the sound of wings.

Cas cupped the box tenderly in his palms and looked down at it, while Sam whispered something in Tracy’s ear and she nodded her agreement. They both quietly made their way over to the fire escape to go down off the rooftop. As Sam passed Dean however, he thumped his brother hard in the shoulder with the knuckles of one hand. It startled Dean and he threw a scowl back at Sam in retort.

As Sam reached the edge of the roof, he called back, “Hey Cas, we’re gonna see if we can find something to eat…. Wanna come?” He had tried to clean the unease from his voice to keep it sounding casual and normal. He didn’t succeed.

Castiel was turning the small box over and over in his hands, his eyes locked on the shimmering flicker of grace as it swirled inside the tiny box. He didn’t look up and he didn’t acknowledge Sam.

Sam let a long quiet breath of air out as if he had been holding his breath. He gave a pointed look to Dean before he followed Tracy down the fire escape stairs.

Once they were gone, Dean went from looking helplessly from where Sam had disappeared to the back of Castiel’s shoulders. He bit his lip and ran his hands through his hair, then slowly stepped around to face Castiel. Dean’s insides were bunched up in a riot of swarming emotional vibrations; fear of losing Cas, fear of things changing between them, a deep selfish needs to pull Cas close and cling tight. Dean looked at the thrumming grace in the clear box, then looked at Cas, and then looked back once more.

“You…. really miss it huh? The power, being able to zap from place to place, being all Smity McSmiterson…” Dean forced a quirk of a smile out.

“I miss feeling whole Dean.” Cas replied and his voice was soft, low, quiet.

“Don’t we all….” Dean snarked out and then wiped his face with his hand. “Sorry… I guess…. It’s just…. isn’t there any other time you felt whole… outside of when you were an angel?” Dean dipped his head to try to catch Castiel’s eyes and draw them away from the glimmering box.

“Are you trying once again to tell me how much you need me Dean?” Cas said flatly.

Dean blinked and licked his lips. It felt like his heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. “I do need you Cas…..”

“And you need me more when I’m useful. When I’m full of angelic power. Not when I’m broken and drugged out….” Castiel still would not look at Dean.

“Oh come on…. shut up, that’s not true…..” Dean winced.

Castiel did look up then and speared Dean with his wide blue eyes. The emotion swimming within was filled with so much longing, so much ache that Dean had to drop his eyes down. The sheer depth of Castiel’s emotions made Dean feel weak and feeble. He had no idea what to say to stop Cas, to keep him here, to make him stay.

“It’s doesn’t matter Dean.” Castiel croaked out, “In the end, this isn’t your choice. It’s mine.”

Dean took in a deep shaking breath and he raised his eyes to meet Castiel’s. Abruptly he walked up to Cas, cupped Castiel’s cheek with one hand and he pulled Cas in for a desperate kiss. He shoved Cas’ mouth open with his tongue and put all his trembling apprehension into it, as if the act would shove all Dean’s fears away. He kissed Castiel, hard and long, his hand gripping against Cas’ jaw roughly.

Dean pulled back just as abruptly as he had initiated the kiss. He knocked his forehead against Castiel’s as he said, “You’re right. This is your decision to make.” He paused, hesitated as his insides twisted around. Finally he said, “Just…. know that…. know that I…..” But Dean’s breath tripped up and he couldn’t get the air he needed to finish.

He tightened his hold on Cas and kissed him again, deeper, as if the act would say everything he couldn’t. When he released Castiel this time he turned away and stalked over to the edge of the rooftop. Before he swung down onto the fire escape stairs, he gave Cas one last look.

Dean’s green eyes were as tormented as Castiel’s blue ones were pleading. They held there for a long moment, neither of their hearts seeming to beat in their chests. It was as if they were both waiting for something from the other that wasn’t being done or said.

Finally Dean tore his eyes away and he went down the fire escape stairs.

Castiel was left alone on the roof.

He sank down to sit, one leg half splayed out in front while the other was tucked close. He felt like his legs just couldn’t hold himself up any longer. He cradled the box holding his grace lovingly, gently. He turned it over in his hands slowly, so slowly and felt the hum from his grace warming his fingers. The call of it, to reunite with this missing part of himself, grew stronger. He smiled slightly at the familiarity of it.

Then he stopped. The edge of his lip stung and he realized that Dean had bruised him slightly with his last kisses. He could still taste Dean in his mouth, still feel the echo of Dean’s hand on his jaw.

A hard shiver ran through Castiel from the fresh memory of Dean’s touch, and it was chased by the vibrating warmth of his angel grace. Neither ran stronger and they didn’t cancel each other out. Cas ran one finger along his lip and closed his eyes.

Castiel drew in a long deep breath and then….

He opened the box.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The music in this chapter:
> 
> There Must Be An Angel (Playing With My Heart) - Eurythmics  
> http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/82755714848

****

 

 

**Chapter 24**

**I65, somewhere near Seymour, Indiana.**

 

[Two months later](http://the-mark-of-eshcaine.tumblr.com/post/82755714848)

"No-one on earth could feel like this.  
I'm thrown and overblown with bliss.  
There must be an angel  
Playing with my heart.  
I walk into an empty room  
And suddenly my heart goes "boom"!  
It's an orchestra of angels  
And they're playing with my heart…..

(Must be talking to an angel)

No-one on earth could feel like this.  
I'm thrown and overblown with bliss.  
There must be an angel  
Playing with my heart.  
And when I think that I'm alone  
It seems there's more of us at home.  
It's a multitude of angels  
And they're playing with my heart.

(Must be talking to an angel)

I must be hallucinating  
Watching angels celebrating.  
Could this be reactivating  
All my senses dislocating?  
This must be a strange deception  
By celestial intervention.  
Leavin' me the recollection  
Of your heavenly connection."

The music poured from the car speakers and fluttered out of the open car windows and into the new summer air. The car was a 1965 Mustang, in fairly good shape but there were a few dings and scrapes along its side. Its black paint was faded and there were a couple of tears in the upholstery, but neither the driver nor the passenger cared. The trunk and the backseat were loaded with supplies and the car sped down an empty stretch of 165 headed south. Caravanned in line behind it were three other cars; a dusty green Jeep, a little yellow Datsun, and a rusted out black 67 Chevy Impala that had seen much better days but was still, amazingly, running.

The passenger of the Mustang was reaching her arm out of the open window to let the rushing air current course through her open fingers. She let her hand weave up and down, riding that current, until the driver gunned the engine a little. The sudden extra rush of air made her laugh out loud and look over at him.

Sam smiled back, his hand resting easy and confident on the steering wheel, the air from the open windows breezing his hair back from his face. He was back in his usual jeans and plaid shirt combo, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Tracy, in the passenger seat, laughed again when he wiggled his brows at her. She leaned away from the window and scooted over to be closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder. She was wrapped up in an oversized plaid shirt, but still wearing her old standby canvas cargo pants. Her hair was pulled up into a messy knot on her head, and light tendrils were flying free around her face.

In the weeks after Lucifer’s Last Stand, as Tracy had called it, she and Sam had been nearly inseparable. Except for one day, when Sam and Dean had gone off alone together to talk for the whole day. Sam told her later that he and Dean were starting to patch their relationship together again and to work through the issues that had wrecked them before the Sam had said yes to Lucifer. After that, he and Dean had been better, and had begun to relax around each other. Dean was still a little pissed that Sam and Tracy hadn’t told him the final part of their plan to get rid of Lucifer, but Dean had forgiven for them most part. The brothers had gone back to being Brothers again.

The walkie-talkie that was nestled between Sam and Tracy came cracking to life. It sputtered a little, then static fizzed over it.

“Hey Sam?” It was Bobby Singer’s voice.

After things had calmed, when the Croats were gone, and the angels were gone and the end times had well, ended, Dean had gotten a message to Bobby back in Camp Chitaqua. Dean asked him to get the Impala running enough to drive her to Illinois and for Bobby to bring her down. Dean had also said the members of the camp would be wise to relocated to Champaign-Urbana and be part of the city’s rebuilding. Bobby hadn’t dragged his heels and he was there in Illinois within a week.

Tracy picked up the walkie-talkie and clicked it on, “Sam needs both his hands for other things right now Bobby….”

“Yea well, both hands better be on the wheel of that vehicle because I ain’t scrapin’ you two off the pavement if you crash.” Bobby snorted.

Tracy smiled, nipped her teeth on Sam’s shoulder through his shirt and then replied, “What’s going on Bobby?”

“I’m getting’ hungry. What say we stop for a bit?” Bobby’s voice fuzzed a little over the connection.

Sam merely shrugged as Tracy brought the walkie-talkie back up to speak into, “Fine by us. What’s everyone else say?”

“I’ll have Charlie ask Dean….” And Bobby’s transmission went out.

In the Jeep, Bobby put one walkie-talkie down and picked another one up. They had been military grade Korean War era gear that Bobby had maintained and then tweaked during the time he was at Camp Chitaqua and they had an amazing range on them. The other thing he had done was outfit this particular Jeep so he could drive it even without the use of his legs.

With the other walkie-talkie on, he said, “Hey Charlie, how’s your stomach back there, four-ten?”

The other walkie-talkie on that channel clicked on and Charlie’s voice came through bright and chipper, “I’m a might peckish there Big B. We stopping? Ten-four!”

“Yea. Holler back at Dean. Over and out.” Bobby clicked off his walkie-talkie and kept his eyes on the road and Sam’s car.

In the bright yellow Datsun, Charlie was giggling and switching her walkie-talkie over to the same channel that Dean’s was on. When the Winchester brothers said they were leaving town to head south and help Tracy find her sister, Charlie had quickly offered to come along. While Kevin had easily fallen into a role as a leader helping rebuild, Charlie had decided it was time for her to move on. And so she had eagerly joined the group heading south.

Charlie clicked on her walkie-talkie and still smiling said, “Hey Dean, you ready to stop and nosh? Four-ten?”

The channel was silent a moment, and then Dean’s obviously annoyed voice came over the device, “Charlie, I’m not doing that CB talk crap like you and Bobby do. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Charlie made an exaggerated sound of frustration, “You’re no fun Dean.”

“Yea yea yea…. Save it Frog*.” Dean huffed.

Charlie grinned, “Bobby wants to know if you are ready for a break. He’s hungry. Me too.”

“If he wants to stop that means he wants more than the beef jerky he’s got.” Dean paused. “Yea I’m down. Pass it up the line to tell Sasquatch to pull over.”

“Got it, ten four good buddy!” Charlie’s voice came over the channel and then clicked off.

Dean rolled his eyes and then tossed the walkie-talkie onto the seat. “Next time, you’re talking to her.” Dean glanced at his passenger, his eyes lingering for a moment before they went back to the road.

“I’ll use Enochian.” Dean’s passenger, Castiel, replied. “I won’t translate it for her.”

Dean laughed, “She’ll love that.”

After another moment of silence, Dean looked back at his passenger again quickly. The worn dirty baggy jeans that had been part of Castiel’s wardrobe at Camp Chitaqua were gone. In their place were canvas cargo pants, much like the ones Tracy wore. Castiel had found them in an army surplus store near the campus. They were dark olive and one of the side thigh pockets was deep enough that Cas could keep his angel blade within easy reach.

Dean could see the firm line of the blade’s handle pressed against the pocket’s fabric now as Castiel sat. It made Dean wet his lips and he forced his eyes back onto the road.

Ahead of them, Charlie’s little yellow car began to slow and pull over. They had found a roadside rest stop. It was overgrown and the pavement was shot, but it would do. Dean made a sour face when he considered what the bathrooms must be like now.

Dean parked and shut off the engine. When Castiel moved to open the door and get out, Dean reached over and took hold of Cas’ sleeve. The beat up jacket and the threadbare t-shirts that Cas wore were gone now as well. Cas had kept the light blue hippie shirt however and he was wearing that now. Over it though, he had found a plain trench coat, and was now rarely without it. Dean mused on how fitting that was now, considering.

Cas paused and looked back at Dean, his brows raised in curiosity.

“Hey…” Dean tugged on Cas’ sleeve a little, “Come back here a sec.”

Castiel nodded and relaxed against the seat.

Dean tugged again and this time, he slid closer to Cas on the seat, “You doin’ okay? We haven’t really…. Um…. ‘talk’ talked much since….”

“I’m fine Dean.” The voice was even, soft, calm. Cas’ eyes were doing his usual curious glint, but his fingers had curled against the edges of his coat.

Dean shuffled a little closer and turned his body more to face Castiel. “I know I’m not Mr. Feelings Parade but, Cas we… we really need….”

Cas cut him off by placing one finger lightly to Dean’s lips, “You know why I did it. I know why. Is there really anything else to say about it?”

Castiel had made a decision on the roof of that building the day they had defeated Lucifer. The other angel’s had brought Castiel his lost grace and Dean couldn’t bring himself to stay and watch. He couldn’t bear to stand there and see Cas become an angel again, to be able to flit off in a heartbeat. Dean couldn’t bear it that Castiel was going to chose not to stay.

Afterwards, unable to face Dean, Castiel had made himself very scarce and in the following days and weeks they had kept apart. Each doing what they could to help rebuild the city, but Cas had taken extras steps to steer clear of Dean. Dean had focused on Sam then, and hadn’t pushed Cas to talk to him. And Dean definitely had not tried to seek Cas out.

When it came time to leave the city, load up the cars and actually say goodbye to everyone, Dean had expected Castiel to say his farewells and fly off to join the Host in Heaven. Instead he was stunned and surprised when he got into the driver’s seat to find Castiel already waiting in the passenger seat of the Impala. Cas had sat down and not looked at Dean, and Dean hadn’t said anything either at the time. Dean just started the car and began to drive.

Now they were almost two hundred miles down the road and Dean couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yes there is something to say about it! Cas….” Dean pulled Castiel’s hand away from his face but he kept hold of it, kept it close. “What about what I said in the prison cells? And when we were in the hotel together that night….. Cas you kissed me for the first time during the first orgasm you gave me!”

“So it wasn’t just sex for you?” Castiel dropped his head, looking down at his other hand in his lap. “It meant something….?”

“Cas you said you hadn’t kissed anyone, because it…. Because you needed it to be me. That isn’t JUST sex Cas….” Dean ducked his head, trying to catch Castiel’s eyes. “And in the holding cells, I meant every word I had said. When I said it wasn’t going to be like before, that was a promise I mean to keep.”

“But what about the other night, when you tangled me up in my shirt and bent me over the coffee table? Wasn’t that just about sexual release?” Castiel kept his head bowed.

Dean took in a breath, his eyes nervously searching, trying to lock onto Castiel’s, “Cas… that may have been rough but it wasn’t just sex, not for me. None of it… just not ever. Not with you. It’s….”

Cas looked up a little, his usually bright blue eyes seemed faded now, like denim. “It’s what Dean?”

“It’s more! It’s…..” Dean looked away, then back and bit his lip. He squeezed Castiel’s hand inside his. He drew in a fast breath, as if doing so settled something in his head. He let go of Castiel’s hand so that he could instead cup Castiel’s head with both hands and bring their foreheads together. Dean closed his eyes and Cas could feel that he was trembling a little.

“When…” Dean swallowed, gulping in air, “When I asked you what else filled you up other than your angel grace….”

Castiel tried to turn away but Dean held him, held him fast.

“Cas….” Dean nudged closer, their noses rubbing now. “I want to…. I want to be the one to do that. To fill you up…. I want to try. Let me try Cas. Let me try…I know you have your grace back and it’s too late… but…. Please Cas….. Let me try anyway… please…..”

Castiel stilled a moment, before slowly tilting his head. At first Dean thought Cas would kiss him, but then Cas twisted his head out of Dean’s hands gently. He placed his fingers around Dean’s wrists and lowered Dean’s hands to rest in between Dean’s thighs.

Dean opened his eyes and for one lovely moment it was like it had been before. Before the Apocalypse. Before Castiel lost his grace. Before Sam said yes. It was like the two of them standing in a two-bit run-down motel room, eyes locked, Castiel oblivious to personal space.

It made Dean’s heart twist in his chest.

“Cas….”

Castiel broke their gaze and looked down. He pulled open his trench coat and reached into one of its deep inner pockets. As his hand dipped in, a bright blue-white light began to spill out. Castiel curled his fingers around something and he drew it out, holding it out in between he and Dean.

It was a thin glass bottle, nearly two inches long and almost a half-inch wide. It was sealed with a tiny cork, and on top of that was a cap of melted white wax.

Inside it swirled Castiel’s grace.

Cas lifted it up, dangling it pinched in two fingers between his and Dean’s face. The light from it filled the car, flickering over their faces and bodies. As he held it, and looked at it, the wonder and contentment that filled Castiel’s eyes nearly brought Dean to tears.

“This wasn’t something I wanted to do at a busted down rest stop in Indiana.” A lopsided smile crooked at the corner of Castiel’s mouth.

“You didn’t…. you didn’t take your grace…” Dean whispered, his eyes darting back and forth between Castiel’s and the bottle filled with angel grace.

Cas sort of shrugged, but his eyes didn’t leave the bottle. “I did open the box…. And then I sat there for a long time thinking. I also found out the box wouldn’t close once it was opened. Very inconvenient let me tell you. I had to walk around for hours looking for a bottle with a cork… what a pain in the ass….”

“But Ramiel and the other angels wanted you to come back to heaven and….” Dean’s breath was picking up.

“Yea.” Castiel nodded simply, “But all I could feel was the lingering heat from your mouth on mine…. And how it made the inside of my chest feel warmer than my lips…” Castiel paused to close his eyes as moment as if bracing himself for the next few words he was about to say. “Even with my grace restored, I would never truly feel right without you. And I thought that being able to watch over you would be enough. But it wouldn’t. It wasn’t enough in the past, it wouldn’t be now.”

Castiel opened his eyes once more, “My place is by your side Dean. Not with the Host.”

Dean’s brows knit up and his eyes went soft, warm, tender. “Cas….”

Castiel lowered the bottle now, and carefully slipped it into Dean’s hands. “Like I said, was hoping for someplace more romantic maybe… a sandy beach along the water or under a beautiful tree….” He gently closed Dean’s fingers around the bottle, never breaking his gaze with Dean. “I was just waiting to be sure…. About how you felt.”

Dean’s fingers cupped the bottle, reverently. “But Cas….”

“I want you to hang on to it for me Dean.” Cas lifted his brows, “Please?”

Dean answered with a kiss.

A light sweet peck of his lips, followed by another, and another. With each kiss, Dean’s lips lingered a little more and Castiel’s lips reciprocated. Soon their mouths were pressing into each other, opening to each other and sighing together.

When they stopped, the windows of the Impala were a little hazy, but glowing with the light from Castiel’s grace. Their eyes were steamy from their emotion and the edge of desire that was picking up between them.

Dean realized he was holding his breath. Then he realized something else. “Cas,” His voice was not much more than a whisper. “Cas, I lov…..”

Castiel cut him off again with that one finger to Dean’s lips, “Ah….. not yet.” He replaced his finger with a quick kiss, followed by a smile. Castiel’s eyes said, “Soon.” He took in a breath and turned away from Dean. He glanced back once, his smile growing as he saw the expression of utter love on Dean’s face.

Then he opened the door and got out of the Impala.

 

 

-to be continued-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. The original character of "Tracy Louise Copeland" the property of E.G. Johnson.
> 
> HUGE THANKS TO theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her tireless help doing all the beta work for this. THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to once again say thank you to theimportanceofbeingvictoria for all her awesome help as beta.  
> Mere words can not express how much I owe her. =)
> 
> THANK YOU THANK YOU!
> 
> http://theimportanceofbeingvictoria.tumblr.com/  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria

****

 

 

 

**Epilogue**

**Bayou Saint John, Border of Alabama & Florida. One year later.**

 

The house was once someone’s prize, their showcase of ostentatious wealth and money. And then the Apocalypse came, and it’s owners abandoned it, or were driven out, and it sat for many years unused and untended. It was a sprawling six bedroom post-modern mansion with an obscenely huge kitchen, several luminous bathrooms and floor to ceiling windows on the back great room to look out over the lawn towards a long dock and a boathouse on the Bayou.

When the Winchesters first entered the place they expected to find ghosts or ghouls hiding out. Instead they had to chase a blue heron out of the master bedroom where it was trying to build a nest. Dean declared it a good sign that wildlife felt safe there and so they moved in.

After lengthy repairs and filling in the backyard swimming pool with a garden to keep the gators out, they finally made it their new base of operations. Dean took over the four car garage while Bobby made the downstairs guest rooms his. They scavenged parts to install solar and wind power with Charlie’s help, and a satellite dish so they could patch into the slowly recovering free communications webs that were popping up all over the world.

They had found Tracy’s sister, Scout, still on her air force base in Pensacola, getting planes ready for their first flight mission since the Croats had vanished. The reunion between the sisters had been wonderful, and Scout started coming out to the big house on the bayou whenever she could. Scout and Charlie had hit it off, and while it was no great romance, they had become very close friends.

These days though, the Winchesters and their new family would spend the week going out on hunts, working cases and doing what they could to keep the monsters still out there at bay.

Tonight however, they were relaxing and sitting on the deck watching the sun fade on the horizon and the stars begin to flicker in the encroaching twilight. Dean stoked up a small fire in the little fire pit he had built, and the rest were seated on cushions of various size and shape around its perimeter. Bobby reached into the cooler to his left and began passing around cold bottles of beer.

Dean took one from Bobby, clipped the edge of the bottle cap on the side of his boot and popped it open. “….So then this vamp comes racing around the corner of the barn, sees Cas sprawled on the ground, thinks he’s got Cas where he wants him…. And rushes at Cas….” Dean’s smile glowed in the firelight as he told the story.

“I wasn’t sprawled Dean….” Cas rolled his eyes and took a beer from Bobby.

Dean ignored Cas and kept going, “And the vamp fuckin’ pounces, all teeth and snarls….” Dean’s nearly giggling now, “And Cas, he just sticks his boot right in the guy’s chest and booooooop launches the guy right over him using the vamps speed…. in an arc BAM! Onto his back….. stunned the vamp out cold….” Dean shook his head and grinned. “So hilarious.”

“Sam, how did your hunt go yesterday?” Castiel sighed as if Dean’s story bored him, but he tugged on Dean’s jacket and brought the hunter back to slump against Cas’ chest. Cas draped one arm around Dean’s neck and over his shoulder, but his eyes were on Sam and Tracy.

Tracy smiled, curled against Sam’s side, Sam’s arm mirroring how Cas was holding Dean. Sam replied, “Eh. Not nearly as exciting. Just a simple salt and burn. But we’ve been seeing a lot of those lately now that people are moving into places that were ravaged by the Apocalypse.”

“Stirrin’ up the recently angry dead.” Bobby nodded. “Yea, I was wonderin’ if we were gonna see some of that.” He made a ‘tsk’ sound and shook him head. “How ‘bout you Charlie? What’s your week been like?”

Charlie made a ‘grabby hands’ gesture at Bobby and the cooler until he passed her over a beer. “I’ve been over with Scout on base. We got a transmission from Agadir in Morocco….and they confirmed they’ve had radio signals from Spain and Portugal, but nothing on their sat links yet. So that was exciting! And Scout’s flight crew is going to go up on another long distance recon mission soon…. Get up in the clouds and look around more.” Charlie eyed Castiel carefully and mouthed ‘sorry’ to him.

Cas just smiled a little but it was void of any bitterness. He let his hand drift down under Dean’s collar, under the edge of Dean’s t-shirt to finger along Dean’s skin. Dean was lax and slumped against Cas, his green eyes half lidded and watching the fire. When Castiel’s fingers grazed the leather cord hanging around Dean’s neck, Dean’s mouth tugged up in a secret smile.

“Hey, how come you two aren’t drinkin’?” Bobby eyed Sam and Tracy with concern.

Tracy gave a little shrug but a silly huge smile started growing over her face, “Cuz of stuff and…. You know… things.”

Sam’s face echoed her smile and she playfully elbowed him in the ribs. Sam curled around her, wrapping his arms close and resting his chin on the top of her head. His hazel eyes danced happy in the firelight as he looked at Bobby and Dean.

“Tracy and I aren’t going to go out on hunts for a while.” Sam beamed and bit his lip a little.

“Why the hell not?!” Bobby scowled. “Those nasty critters ain’t gonna gank themselves and there is an awful huge shortage of experienced hunters out there right now.”

Sam didn’t move and his smile didn’t fade. “We didn’t think it would be safe for the baby.”

Bobby’s gawked, “Baby?! What in the san-hell are you talkin’ about boy?!”

Dean cut him off, sitting up to suddenly, his whole focus on Sam and Tracy. “You’re pregnant!” Dean’s eyes were bright and excited.

Sam grinned bigger and nodded yes. He cuddled Tracy closer and she just closed her eyes happily.

“Holyshit!” Dean was beside himself with delight, “I’m gonna be an uncle!” He half turned and smiled goofily at Castiel.

Cas was smiling too, a warm sweet thing that made his eyes seem to glow, “Very happy for you both.”

“I’ll miss hunting,” Tracy sighed, “but it’s safer this way.”

“I didn’t want to leave Tracy behind to go on hunts without her so…….” Sam gave a quick lift of his brows, “I figure I can get work on one of the local fishing boats, and we can help Bobby here with research and communications.” Sam smiled at Bobby, “If you can stand it…”

“Hell yes I can stand it boy! This is fantastic news!” Bobby let out an honest laugh.

They six of them spent a few more hours outside discussing the logistics of having the baby and taking care of it once it came. Soon the night turned chill and everyone save Dean and Cas went inside to bed.

Dean stoked the fire a little more, then settled back against Castiel’s side. Cas put his arm back around over Dean, and slipped his hand back under Dean’s collar again. This time when he tugged the leather cord, he pulled it out fully along with the pendant that was secured to its end. The pendant was a simple metal mesh sheath over the thin glass vial that now held Castiel’s grace. The grace flickered and glowed in between the metal mesh twines, shifting its glow to mingle with the firelight.

Castiel canted his head and nuzzled Dean’s ear with his mouth, breathing warm and purposeful as he nibbled. Dean set his empty beer aside and a languid deep hum came up through his chest.

“Sam’s going to be a father…..” Cas murmured. “What do you think about that Dean?”

“I think…” Dean squirmed a little, repositioning himself so his arm was now wrapped around Castiel’s firm thigh, “….that kid is going to have the most awesome Uncles in the history of all children everywhere.”

“You’re going to become an embarrassment to me with all the blubbering and cooing you’ll be doing over that baby, aren’t you?” Castiel huffed out, faking petulance.

“I might.” Dean smirked, “Jokes on you though because you’ll love me anyway.”

“Yes Dean, I will.” Cas clutched Dean a little tighter, pulling Dean in closer. The tone of Cas’ voice was no longer teasing, but sweeter with a sultry edge.

Dean’s mouth curled up into a naughty lopsided grin, “Show me…..”

A moment later Castiel had wrestled a pliant Dean onto his back. Cas spread himself over Dean and showered him with smoldering kisses and gentle nips to his skin. The angel grace pendant slipped along Dean’s shoulder and bathed them in its glow long after the fire died, long after their clothing was shoved and tugged aside, and long after Dean swooned joyously with breathy gasps as Castiel slipped hot between his legs. They came together skin pressed to skin, Cas buried deep inside Dean. And then even later, as they fell asleep under the open night sky in each other’s arms whispering ‘I love yous’, the little vial glowed.

 

The shimmer and flicker of Cas’ grace rested like a tiny star against Dean’s chest, dancing its happy brightness out in mimic of the glittering stars above.

 

-fin-


End file.
